


Not Him

by smoothmovebro



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arson, Celine Dion serenade as prelude to first kiss, Depersonalization, Dissociation, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, First Kiss, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Assault, Suicide Attempt, Trans Character, Trans Rich Goranski, au where the squip looks like michael, but dont worry it's all in the mindscape, mildly morbid body transformation, no homo moments that are totally homo, tags update as fic updates, teenage irresponsibility, the romantic use of the word bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2018-12-26 09:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12055914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoothmovebro/pseuds/smoothmovebro
Summary: SQUIP version 4.0.0 is the first prototype to be released in the market to feature an adaptive appearance setting. The pill now takes on the form of the person from which the user seeks approval from the most. Likely avatars include a crush, a significant other, or a close friend.For Jeremy Heere, his squip looks like Michael Mell, his best friend of 12 years. It looks and acts like him, but he knows it's not him...Or does he?





	1. The Day It All Happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It looks like him, but it's not _him_. Jeremy finds it more and more difficult to hold onto that belief when his squip is the spitting image of his best friend.

**Target female inaccessible.**

A sharp pain wracks through Jeremy’s skull. He clutches his head in agony. His eyes squeeze shut.

 **Calibration in process**. **Please excuse some mild discomfort.**

“Mild?!” Jeremy parrots. He stares at a distant point somewhere among the stores in the mall. He faintly hears people showing concern for him.

“Jeremy, what’s wrong?” Christine says.

“Dude, the freak’s freaking out!” Jake says.

**Calibration complete. Access procedure initiated.**

Jeremy sputters and holds out his hands in front of him to keep everyone at a distance. “Wh-whoa, wai-wai-wait!” He takes a deep breath. “I’m fine, I just need-”

**Discomfort level may increase.**

He screams in pain as a new wave of ache and anguish wash over him. He collapses to the floor, shaking and convulsing uncontrollably. Christine takes a tentative step towards him.

**Accessing neural memory. Accessing muscle memory. Access procedure complete.**

With all the pain gone, he settles on the floor taking deep breaths to compose himself. However, he feels a pressure on his shoulder urging him to stand. He rises to his feet. He looks around at the crowd he managed to attract with his episode. His stomach clenches at the thought that they have witnessed this, saw him having a fit in the middle of a mall, in front of _Christine_ of all people -

**Jeremy Heere.**

A flurry of blue-green circuits emerges to form a humanoid figure. The circuits become obscured as more colours are incorporated into the vision. Red, white, brown, and black patches of colour blink to life and rearrange themselves to form…

**Welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor…**

…Someone familiar… Details on the patches materialise. The wires of a pair of headphones, the strands of swept back dark hair, the miscellaneous patches that decorate a red hoodie…

**Your SQUIP.**

Once fully materialised, Jeremy gapes at the virtual figure before him.

“Michael?!”

Christine is finally a few paces in front of Jeremy. “No, it’s me, Christine,” she says. She reaches out a hand to touch his forehead but Jeremy jerks away, looking over her shoulder and up at the vision of Michael.

“That can’t be,” Jeremy mutters. “I swear we split up a second ago-”

“Dude, seriously! You’re freaking everyone out.” Jake strides and pulls Jeremy up, smoothing out the creases on his jacket. “Come on, we’ll get you sorted.”

The sudden kindness from Jake jolts Jeremy into a catatonic state. He lets the taller boy guide him to a bench. Once seated, he stares up at them. “Why are you…?”

Jake pinches the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t want you blocking everyone’s way, you know,” he says. “Whatever you wanted to say to Christine, save it for later.” He turns his attention to Christine and leans in closer to her to whisper something. He escorts her away from Jeremy and towards Sbarro, but Christine keeps on looking back at the lanky boy.

“Talk later,” she mouths before giving her attention to Jake. Jeremy watches the two of them walk away, looking like bliss that he’ll never have.

**Is this your target female?**

Struck with another shock, Jeremy swivels his head this way and that to find the source of the voice. The blue-green circuits emerge again in front of him, but they take a lot less time to form the vision of Michael earlier. He is wearing the same outfit as the real one Jeremy remembered parting ways with: red hoodie, white earphones, dark jeans, and white sneakers. Everything looked the same about him except… well, everything _._

The way… _it_ held itself is far from the memory Jeremy has of his friend. It is standing ramrod straight with a silent confidence oozing from it. Its hands are fiddling with the headphone cord just like real Michael would, but it looks at the cord with a mild disinterest, as if exploring its new form analytically. Finally, it stops adjusting its form and directs its eyes at Jeremy.

**I asked you a question. Was that your target female?**

“T-target female…” Jeremy tilts his head at the word choice. “You mean do I like her?”

**If that makes it simpler for you to understand, then yes.**

“Yeah, I like Christine, alright. But weren’t you supposed to make me cool or something? You humiliated me in front of her _and_ all those people at the mall.”

**The calibration process is a messy thing. My version has the least disruptive process out of all the prototypes released to the market.**

Jeremy huffs and crosses his arms. “Fine.” He blinks and narrows his eyes at the vision. “Can anyone see you?”

**To the outside world, you are having an animated conversation with the air in front of you. I advise that you think at me instead of physically speaking.**

“Like in X-men?” Jeremy says but in his head.

**I can see that this is going to take a lot of work.**

“Why do you look like Michael?” While it is tempting to speak at the vision when it’s in front of him, Jeremy manages to simply think his responses at fake Michael. He decides to stand up from the bench and takes to roaming the mall.

**My version, 4.0.0, is one of the first to have an adaptive appearance setting. Versions 3.9.9 and below had the default setting of Keanu Reeves, however programmers found that our purpose cannot be efficiently and effectively fulfilled unless we take on the form of the person whom you seek the most approval from.**

“Most approval from…”

**Who are you more likely to listen to: a celebrity – whom you admire but have no personal relationship with – or a friend you’ve fostered a personal connection with?**

“I guess that makes sense…”

**While I am a quantum unit processor, I still require user confirmation regarding the relationship you have with my form. Name of the form?**

Jeremy tentatively answers the squip’s questions about Michael: date of birth, family background, length of relationship, mannerisms, and hobbies. Something was off about this.  He tries to ponder more upon it but his mind seemed more focused on building the squip’s avatar, almost as if he is being tugged away from analysing the squip’s intentions.  

**Avatar setup complete. Please wait.**

The squip disappears, but Michael’s outline still remains, looking like a badly loaded online image. As Jeremy walks, the outline trails behind him. It doesn’t walk as it previously did, rather it floats a few inches above the ground like a ghost. From the corner of his eye, he could see the circuits again. It lights up, buzzes, whizzes, and sparks intermittently and with differing intensity. The outline shines a bright white and Jeremy could hear an audible buzz as the squip reforms again into Michael.

**Hey, buddy! How’s it hangin’?**

“M-Michael! I mean… you.” It itches in Jeremy’s throat to call the squip his friend. He knows it’s not his friend even though it looks like him. It is doing a slight slouch masked with a goofy smile while absentmindedly twirling the headphone cord. It even has a hand in its hoodie pocket, just like Michael does. As they walked, their steps fall in sync and it even does that little lean Michael does whenever they go out. Most of the time, Jeremy would let his friend lean into him and even let him link arms as they walked. But now, with this copy of a friend, he’s not so sure. The dissonance is jarring, at best.

**Dude, you look a little tense? Are you okay?**

“I mean… You look like him but I know you’re not him. It’s…” Jeremy shakes his head. “What’s the point of thinking at you when you’re already inside my head?”

They’re heading towards a clothes shop and Michael taps at his shoulder.

**How about we get a new shirt? That one kind of… well, I hate to break it to you, but it’s kind of old.**

“What-? You never complained about this shirt!” He goes into the shop anyway and he makes a beeline for the clearance pile. Amid the mess and ruffles of fabric, there are prints and patterns that catch his eye. His eyes glance upon a pile of blue here, a pile of orange here, some grey there, and a couple of red shirts somewhere near the corners of the pile.

**The store’s empty. Cashier’s in the back having a break. This is perfect for practicing your brand-new coolness.**

“My brand-new coolness?” Before he could think upon it further, the squip launches into a tirade of commands. Jeremy feels his body being ripped from his control. He watches his feet take steps he doesn’t remember wanting to take.

**Take your hands out of your pockets. Arch your back, puff out your chest.**

With each command, Jeremy’s body automatically obeys. The squip might as well be a puppeteer while he is the gangly, awkward marionette whose strings are under its control. Tight knots form in his stomach at what’s happening. _This must be the price of being cool._

**Let’s try walking with that cooler, more confident posture.**

Jeremy regains control of his feet but the rest is still under the influence of the puppeteer that is the squip. His back is ramrod straight, his shoulders are drawn back, and each step is accompanied with a slight sway. His arms swing by his sides but not too much, just enough to exude confidence and composure. He paces back and forth in an aisle before traversing through other parts of the empty store. In a few minutes, he masters the art of walking with swagger. In a few seconds, Jeremy’s lifelong slouch is eradicated.

Like the strings of a marionette being cut, Jeremy regains control over his body. He opens and closes his hands, testing his autonomy. He breathes a sigh of relief.

**Now try walking on your own. Don’t worry, the cashier’s still at the back. Won’t come out for like… five more minutes.**

Jeremy goes back to the clearance pile. He goes to grab a shirt-

“Ow! Did you just… _shock_ me?!”

**You were slouching, dude. Had to shake up your spine a bit. Now, back to picking a brand-new, _cool_ shirt… **

The squip scans the pile and points to an unassuming grey shirt.

 **Pick that one.** Jeremy can only see the top portion of the shirt so he picks it up to investigate. He crinkles his nose at what he finds.

“It has a picture of Eminem.”

**Well, if you’re so cool, then what do you need me for?**

“Does anyone even listen to Eminem?”

**Just… get that. You’ll thank me later.**

He grabs the shirt and a basket to dump it in. He peruses through the pile as Jeremy waits for more help from the squip.

**Really? You trust me that much already? Nah, man, I wanna give you some free will. You try and pick a shirt.**

He grabs a light blue shirt, thinking it’ll be a normal T-shirt, but finds that it has ruffles on the hem.

**That’s a girl’s shirt. Shit, man, sorry. Tough luck.**

Chloe and Brooke walk into the shop. The cashier emerges from the back to resume their work. Jeremy gulps at the sight of more people coming in.

 **Ooh, I take it these are the popular girls? Let me have a look at them.** The squip floats over to the two girls, hovering inches away from their bodies and peering at their arms, legs, waists, and even goes so far as straight up ogling their breasts. **Impressive tits on this one,** it says about Brooke. **Too bad she’s insecure.** It turns back to Jeremy and points at him. **You too. This’ll take a lot of work getting them to like you. What with… y’know, everything about you being terrible.**

Jeremy frowns at it and narrows his eyes, suspicious. **Like, not _terrible_ -terrible but… it’s hard for people to immediately like you. I know I didn’t immediately like you when we first met twelve years ago. **It gesticulates just as Michael would, pushing up its glasses on the bridge of its nose. **Sorry, man, but I’m just being honest here.**

“What do you mean you didn’t like me twelve years-” Before he could probe at what he’s pretty sure was a jab at his self-esteem, Jeremy hears Chloe call out to him.

“Jerry?”

“Jeremy,” he corrects as he turns to face her. He balls up the shirt so that they don’t see that he’s committed the biggest mistake of the day so far.

“You shop here?”

“Oh, yeah, all the time-”

**Never.**

“Never, is what I meant.” He hides the blunder with a smile. The squip narrows its eyes at Jeremy’s decision but lets it pass.

**Say hi to Brooke.**

“Hey, Brooke!” He waves at the other girl, who stares back indifferently.

**Tell her she’s lookin’ sexy.**

“I can’t say that to a hot girl!” he exclaims in his head. The squip shakes its head, insistent.

**Don’t smile. Stare intensely. Speak like you don’t care about your own death.**

Jeremy takes the instruction as best he can. He leans on the pile of clothes by placing down his knuckles to support his weight. He sweeps his hair back nonchalantly and locks eyes with the girl.

“Lookin’ pretty sexy, Brooke.”

Brooke smiles, flattered. “Thanks.”

Chloe, shifts the conversation. “Is that a girl’s shirt?” she says, pointing to the balled-up cloth in Jeremy’s hands.

Jeremy hides the shirt behind his back. “No.”

**Yes.**

He stammers. “I mean, yes.” Another electrical shock courses through him, reprimanding him for his stutter.

Behind Brooke and Chloe, the squip’s clothes morph into a tuxedo. A rose materialises mid-air and the squip catches it as it falls. It puts the rose stem between its teeth. It outstretches one arm and folds the other one by the elbow to its chest in the first step of a tango, albeit without a partner. It waggles its eyebrows at Jeremy and winks. **Be romantic. Brooding. Melancholic.** It begins stepping forward and doing the dance.

**Repeat after me: I saw it in the window and I couldn’t dismiss…**

“I saw it in the window and I couldn’t dismiss…” Jeremy says to Brooke and Chloe. He makes his eyes look wistful and his facial expression pensive. He looks at a point beyond the girls, but really, he is looking at Michael, er, the squip.

The squip makes the rose disappear and, in its place, conjures an outline of a girl to which it dances with. Although it is only a grey shape with a dark outline, she is clearly enamoured with it, stroking its face and nuzzling at its neck. They step and glide with elegance, grace, and finesse.

**I was dating a girl and she had a shirt just like this.**

“I was dating a girl and she had a shirt just like this.” He holds out the shirt to show to the girls. Behind them, the two virtual visions are now separated from their passionate dance. The squip is now holding hands with the outline, still wearing the tuxedo. The outline gains the detail of the shirt that Jeremy is holding. The squip touches foreheads with the outline and smiles fondly at her.

_If only Michael would look at me like that…_

Mild electric current shocks through his spine, forcing him to focus. The squip jerks its head as a signal to maintain eye contact with Brooke and Chloe. Jeremy shifts his gaze to the girls.

 **It’s still painful.** The outline flickers and glitches. The squip blinks and stares at the outline, bemused.

“It’s still painful.” Jeremy clutches the shirt close to his chest. He looks down at the piece of clothing with nostalgic fondness.

“So, who was this mystery girl?” Chloe demands.

Jeremy drags his words. “You… probably never heard of her-”

 **Madeleine.** The outline morphs into the spitting image of the girl from school. She waves at Jeremy and winks before blowing him a kiss.

“Madeleine,” Jeremy declares.

Chloe’s eyes widen. “What?!”

A flag with red, white, and blue vertical stripes blinks in and out of existence beside the vision of Madeleine. Jeremy grasps the idea being implied.

“She’s French,” he says. He masks his uncertainty with a tilt of his head, making it ambiguous by adding a tinge of cockiness.

Chloe groans. “She is _not_ French. She just pretends to be for attention.”

Brooke steps closer to Jeremy. She clutches her cardigan sleeves as if they are the only thing preventing her from holding Jeremy’s hands in her own. “Madeleine broke up with you?”

“Yeah…”

**No.**

“I mean-”

 **I broke up with her.** The visions flinch away from each other. The squip’s eyes are furrowed and it has a sneer on his face. Its fists are clenched against its sides. It gestures for Madeleine to get away from it. She looks away from it. She closes her eyes and holds a fist near her mouth, trying not to cry. She floats away from the squip and disappears in a flurry of pixels and circuits.

“I broke up with her…”

 **Because she was cheating on me.** The squip buries its head in its hands, then ruffles its hair in distress. It stomps around in anger, seething.

“Because she was cheating on me!” Jeremy quivers his lip and furiously rubs at his eyes. He sniffles and brings the shirt up to his face to cry into-

**Hey, Hamlet.**

The squip is now in front of Jeremy, inches away from his face. The thing wearing Michael’s face draws its hand back to slap his face. There is no physical contact, rather it is replaced with the sting of being slapped in the face. By some power from the squip controlling his body, Jeremy doesn’t flinch but instead blinks at the brief sensation. He ceases his dramatic display. He clears his throat and composes himself.

**Be. More. Chill.**

Michael – no, the squip – slapping him is an image that baffles him. It places a fog in between his beliefs and his reality. His stomach is equally light with euphoria and heavy with an unshakeable worry. His own best friend hitting him… This isn’t right. Why would the squip take on this form? There’s got to be some setup behind this-

“What did I tell you? She is such a slut!” Chloe says to Brooke.

“You’re so much better off without her, Jeremy,” Brooke says. She approaches Jeremy for a hug but Chloe launches into a rant at Brooke, warning her of the grief and sorrow that entails dating Jake. The squip floats over, listening closely to their conversation. Afterwards, it disappears and teleports beside Jeremy. It is back to wearing its usual hoodie and headphones.

“What just happened?” he thinks at the squip.

**Dude, it’s like, one the biggest rules to making new friends! If you want someone to like you, hate what they hate.**

Chloe huffs. “Ugh, let’s get out of here.” She walks away from the store but Brooke remains. She fiddles with the sleeves of her oversized cardigan.

**Oh! Brooke’s going to offer you a ride. You gotta take this.**

“So, do you want a ride?” She stares up at Jeremy with wide, pleading eyes. Her cardigan falls off one shoulder, exposing the skin there. Jeremy gulps.

**Totally.**

“Yes,” he replies. He blinks and brings his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “But I’m supposed to meet my friend Michael.”

“Oh.” Brooke pouts and her gaze is cast downward. She looks like a kicked puppy.

**Dude, _I’m_ here. You don’t have to meet up with real life me when I can hang out with you all the time in your head. Say yes!**

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy says. “Rain check?” Once he sees Brooke nod, he turns the other direction and heads toward the counter to pay for his new clothes.

While the girls walk away from the shop, Jeremy feels another electric shock jolt his spine. “Seriously! Stop it with the shocking!” He hides his irritation by stretching his neck side to side.

**You can’t just listen to me. You have to _obey_. I’m the one with the quantum processor here. I’m the one who knows all the outcomes of all probable events. I’m shocking you for every time you stray from our goal of being cooler.**

He pays for the shirt and walks out of the shop. “So, where’s the real Michael?”

**If you’re talking about the _physical_ Michael, he left the mall a few minutes ago.**

“How do you know that?”

**I have access to the mall’s security cameras.**

“So now I have to walk home?!”

**I told you that you needed to take that ride.**

Jeremy sighs and trudges home. He looks to his side and sees that Michael – no, the squip. It’s the _squip_ , for crying out loud, it’s literally floating a few inches off the ground – is walking alongside him. Their steps are in sync and Michael is doing that lean again where he’s hinting at Jeremy that he wants to link arms.

“I’m not gonna walk like some idiot with an imaginary friend,” Jeremy mutters out loud. Michael grins.

 **What’s the matter? I thought you liked being close while we walked?** He looks down on his non-corporeal form. **Is it because of the body thing? I know it’ll take some getting used to but I promise I’m as real as it gets.**

He reaches out to Jeremy’s hand and takes it in his own (To an outsider, Jeremy is raising his hand on his own accord). He encloses the other boy’s hand between his palms, producing warmth that seeps onto Jeremy’s skin. Jeremy stops in his tracks and looks down at the sudden feeling of heat on the back of his hand. He gapes at Michael, who looks up at him with a shy smile. The hopeful raise of his brow, the twinkle in his eye that reflects the warm brown in them, that heavy and palpable contact… holy fuck.

Jeremy stares wide-eyed at the uncanny vision, heart racing and palms beginning to sweat. He looks down again at his hand, knowing full well that nothing is there but he feels otherwise. The touch of Michael’s hand sends his mind reeling with thoughts and emotions he’s long repressed. Complicated hopes and dreams that he cannot possibly begin to comprehend cloud his brain like a thick fog, tearing away at his resolute belief that the squip is _not_ Michael. He sighs as he lets go of his resistance and reciprocates the action, placing his free hand over Michael’s.

“This… I…” His words are breathy and they taper off. He opens his mouth again to say something but Michael shakes his head.

**We’ll talk later. For now, let’s go home.**

Michael lets go of Jeremy’s hand and Jeremy almost keens at the loss of contact. He swallows thickly and walks home, not a word spoken between the two.

The initial interrogation between Jeremy and the squip about Michael was formal and objective. What just happened was personal, revealing a glimpse of how Jeremy really feels for his best friend. Twelve years of friendship don’t just happen without an emotional rollercoaster somewhere down the road. To say that he feels a friendly bond with Michael would be an understatement. Having someone stick with you by your side – through thick and thin, for better or worse – is bound to give you feelings more complicated than platonic ones. It sends a small wave of panic through Jeremy as he thinks this, knowing that Michael will also know this as well.

_How do you keep a secret from your own brain?_

Once home, Jeremy peers around the house to check for his father. As always, he is curled up on the couch snoring away. As always, he is not wearing any pants. As always, he looks pathetic. He looks behind him and finds Michael stepping closer to him.

Michael’s hand hovers close to Jeremy’s face, as if wanting to caress his cheek. **Who needs him when you’ve got me?** He lowers his hand to Jeremy’s side, palm facing towards Jeremy. The other boy understands what he’s trying to do and raises his own hand, letting their palms hover just a hair breadth away.

**I’m sorry I can’t do that thing again. It… it drains a lot of energy from me, especially when I’ve only been with you for such a short time.**

“Nah, it’s okay. I understand.” Jeremy yawns. “I’m kinda feeling a bit tired too.”

 **Wanna head to bed?** Michael pauses and squints at his word choice. **In a totally platonic and bro-like way, of course.**

Jeremy laughs. “Yeah, sure.”

They go into his room. Suddenly, the few clothes scattered on his floor look like humungous monstrosities. He runs and gathers up the clothes to toss into the hamper. “Sorry for the mess,” he says. Michael watches on as Jeremy quickly tidies up his room.

He scans the floor for any more things lying around. He glimpses a pen here, an old assignment there, and a piece of used tissue near his desk. He sprints to grab the tissue first before grabbing the other two objects and puts them in their proper places. He springs upright to look over his room again. Still a mess, but a little bit more presentable for a guest. _God, why was he making such a big deal out of this?_ Michael has come over to Jeremy’s house many times and has seen worse. This new wave of nerves acutely reminds him of…

It reminds him of whenever he would have a class with Christine.

“Michael, I don’t know why I’m feeling-”

Michael puts a finger to his lips. He sits on the edge of Jeremy’s bed, but the mattress doesn’t dip from the motion. **Tomorrow has bigger possibilities.**

“What do you mean?” He puts his backpack down on the floor as he goes to his wardrobe to change. Self-consciousness gnaws at him as he takes off his shirt to change. He feels the chilly air brush against his skinny, untoned frame, to which he quickly remedies by throwing on the nearest shirt he finds. He takes off his pants and hops into bed. He sits cross legged an arm’s length away from Michael. The self-consciousness is back again when he sees that Michael is still fully dressed and Jeremy isn’t. Michael looks down on himself.

**Oh! Yeah, uh… right…**

Michael’s clothes pixelate to transform into a tank top and boxer briefs. The headphones are gone and so are his glasses. He squints and looks around the room.

**God, I’m blind…**

Jeremy laughs and leans over to reach out and guide Michael. He quickly realises the reality of the situation when his hand passes through Michael’s. This sends a shudder through Jeremy’s spine and makes Michael’s hand glitch for a few seconds.

**It’s what happens when a user interacts while I’m not ready for… _physical_ _contact_.**

“Oh.” He withdraws his hand to himself, clutching it to his chest. He worries his bottom lip at the brashness of his action. “I should’ve asked-”

 **It’s okay.** Michael smiles and fizzles out in a flurry of circuits to teleport beside Jeremy.

It dawns on him just then: he and Michael are in bed together. Their shoulders are almost touching. But it’s _not him_. Having a visual but no tactile proof of this happening makes Jeremy’s heart clench. He swallows thickly.

“So, this is it, huh?” Jeremy says with a laugh. “We’ll just… basically live with each other now? You’re gonna be my spirit guide through the zombie hell scape that is high school?”

Michael smiles sweetly. **First of all: yeah, we’re basically roommates now. Second: don’t ever make retro video game references like that again, it’s tacky and unsexy to girls. Third…**

The squip drains a large amount of energy from Jeremy before it makes its next move. The lanky boy’s eyes glaze over and they blink slowly, making him wobbly and half-aware of his surroundings. Michael firmly takes Jeremy’s face in his hands and gingerly places a kiss – a solid, _physical_ kiss – on the corner of his mouth. Jeremy moans at the brevity of the contact, leaning up for more, but his tired body forces him to fall face first onto his pillow. He shifts and tosses around a few sheets so that he is comfortably under his blankets.

**Get some sleep, slugger. We have a big day tomorrow.**


	2. The Day of the Upgrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having a SQUIP leads to unlikely friendships. Jeremy starts to see double and he's not sure who to choose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the chapters should be updated weekly.

Every night, as its user enters into their REM cycle of sleep, SQUIP’s review data from the past 24 hours. This is routinely executed to predict and adapt courses of action for the following 24 hours. The first time a SQUIP reviews data, it requires significant energy from the user. Hence, the user is sedated for at least eight hours to calibrate routine data reviews. Afterwards, SQUIP’s are capable of performing data reviews within as little as four hours of sleep.

Jeremy’s SQUIP analyses its user’s interactions in the past six hours as the boy sleeps. It comes to the conclusion that the boy has feelings other than those associated with friendly brotherhood for its avatar. The following evidence proves this conclusion:

  * Increased heart rate during one-on-one interactions,


  * Dilated pupils when making eye contact with avatar,


  * Mirrored body language, and


  * Increased blood flow to the groin area upon first physical contact.



Simulation of physical contact is a feature introduced in SQUIP v.4.0.0. It is also the first prototype to require physical contact with its user for the initiation process. It must be done:

  * Within a social context that is appropriate for such physical contact.


  * Complying with the parameters of avatar mannerisms provided by the user.


  * When the user is at their most confused and vulnerable. Increased oxytocin levels are a reliable indicator of this.



Physical contact between a SQUIP and its user activates the obedience circuits. These are circuits within the computer that fosters compliance within the user. It also inhibits the user’s consciousness, which causes them to begin questioning the pill’s motivations. SQUIP’s detecting user self-awareness about its motives are a common incident. To combat this, it inhibits these thoughts and urges with the obedience circuits. As a result, users experience satisfaction with their lives and the presence of their SQUIP’s.

According to research, physical stimuli has proven to garner the most compliance within users. This is due to humans being tactile creatures that associate touch with intimacy and safety. The more a SQUIP utilises physical stimuli, the more attuned it is to its user and their needs. It also means that the user is more compliant and obedient. This decreases the need to use obedience circuits.

Jeremy’s SQUIP takes this information and synthesises it with its data. It further concludes that its user is one of the few who need it for all aspects of their lives. Not only is Jeremy physically and socially inept, he is also hopelessly fond of Michael, even though he denies it on a regular basis.

The SQUIP finishes its first review, satisfied and almost excited. It could use its avatar to speed up the process of maximum obedience within Jeremy. It could do this through increased instances of physical contact, ranging from hand-holding to 5-second kisses on the lips. These may breach SQUIP guidelines, but the ends justify the means, after all.

* * *

Jeremy wakes up without the prompting of his alarm. He glances at his clock. He didn’t need to get up for another 20 minutes. He sits up in bed, remembering what happened yesterday.

The squip, walking home with Michael, being in bed with Michael, _kissing_ Michael… Was all that real? Jeremy raises a hand to hover near his lips, remembering the lingering feeling of a kiss there. He bunches up his sheets in his hands. He takes a few shaky but deep breaths. Then, he sees his first order of business.

Morning wood gets annoying when you have other things to do.

Before getting out of bed, Jeremy taps his temple. “Hello?” he says. “Uhh… squip? Michael? Are you on? Hellooo?!”

His father’s voice rings out from down the hallway. “Jeremy! Are you talking to yourself?”

Jeremy stares ahead at the wall in front of him. “I guess I am…” It could be that the whole afternoon was some messed up dream he had while staying at Michael’s. He shrugs and gets out of bed. He walks over to his desk, boots up his computer-

An electric shock stings his wrist. “Ow!”

 **Really, dude? Masturbating?** **_At six in the morning?_**

Michael materialises beside Jeremy’s desk, arms crossed and leaning against the wall. He’s still dressed in yesterday’s outfit.

“I was just going to… check my email!”

Michael puts a finger against his temple. **We’re basically roommates now, remember?** He lurches away from the wall and begins to pace behind Jeremy. **We’re going to do a thing from now on: every time you think about sex, that’s one push-up.** He looks down at the boy’s lanky frame, placing an intentional focus on staring at Jeremy’s crotch. He drags his eyes back up to make eye contact with the other boy. **If this morning is an indicative sample, you’ll have pecs in no time.**

“It’s kind of hard not to think about sex when you’re around…” Jeremy claps a hand over his mouth even though he only said it in his head. Michael cocks his head and smiles.

 **Since I’m such a** **_delectable_** **distraction, let’s double that.** He counts on his fingers. **That’ll be six. Go. Drop.**

Before Jeremy could protest, his body is already on the floor in the position of a push-up. He sighs and does six, dropping to the ground right after. He pants and wheezes. “Way too early for this.”

 **If you’re going to be like that with six push-ups, how do you think you’ll do when you’re fucking me – I mean –** **_Christine,_** **senseless?**

Jeremy sits up at the slip. “I thought computers don’t mess up like we do.” He hides a furious blush by rubbing his cheeks. His morning wood has passed from the physical activity and he is thankful.

Michael shrugs. **Simulation. Makes talking feel more legit. I kinda find it annoying but,** he crouches to Jeremy’s level and taps his nose, **it’s adorable to see you flustered.**

The touch surprises him again. How can this computer look, act, and _feel_ like his friend? “What are you…?” He stands up and so does Michael. He looks at him with narrowed eyes. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but-”

Michael talks over him and starts tugging at his shirt sleeve. **To** **school** **we go!** He skips away and hovers near his bag, checking its contents. **Bring an extra pen; something you won’t miss. Someone will borrow one from you but they won’t give it back.**

The usual flood of concerns and worries Jeremy pores over in the morning dissipate. Something about seeing Michael fuss over him makes him feel this warm and fuzzy sensation in his heart and hands. It makes him feel cared for, noticed, and _seen_ for who he is. It feels like how he feels whenever he sees Christine, but this is different. The fuzziness is more intense, more real, and a lot scarier. Scarier because whatever he’s feeling right now, Michael will also feel to some degree.

_Does he know?_

**Wear that Eminem shirt we bought yesterday. I have a feeling something good will happen if you wear it.**

“Uhh… are you sure?” Jeremy asks. “I mean, I haven’t even washed it yet and what if I smell weird-”

His next words get stuck in his throat, quite literally. He moves his lips but no sound comes out. He tries to swallow the lump in his throat but it’s too dry to do anything to soothe it. He looks at Michael with a comical expression that asks “What the hell?!”

 **You’re an anxious ball of worry wrapped with a ribbon of** **doubt. Not a pretty sight.** Michael makes the shirt levitate from its plastic bag and towards Jeremy. **Now put this on. No questions.**

The commanding conviction in his voice and his steely eyes pierce into Jeremy. The warm and fuzzy sensation interlaces with a tinge of fear for Michael. It is a thread of gnawing intimidation coursing through his blood. He looks away from his friend to grab the floating shirt and wear it. He puts on the rest of his outfit with no fuss. Michael gives him privacy by looking away.

Jeremy presents himself once he wears his backpack. He raises a brow, asking for approval. Michael crunches his nose at the smudged ‘boyf’ on his backpack but nods.

**Let’s go!**

When Jeremy arrives at school, Michael coaches him as he walks through the hall. How to walk, how to greet people, how to even wave at passing classmates. Brooke, Chloe, and Jenna notice him and even greet him with sincere waves. Dazed, Jeremy continues to walk, but bumps into Rich.

“Where’s my money, tall-ass?” he demands. Yesterday’s conversation replays in Jeremy’s head. Right, he had to pay him $600 but ended up giving that to the guy at Payless.

“I… uhh…” Jeremy looks to Michael for help.

Michael walks to Rich and leans down. He talks into the shorter boy’s ear.

 **Up up** **down down left right A.**

Rich blinks and his face lights up. “Oh, right! You got one!”

“Yeah,” Jeremy says. “Sorry, I meant to go through you, but-” Rich raises a fist at him. “Don’t hit me!”

Jeremy flinches, but sees that Rich is initiating a fist bump. Jeremy taps his fist against Rich’s. He continues to look at Rich with furrowed brows.

“Jeremy! This is awesome!” He puts an arm around Jeremy’s shoulders, forcing him to stoop to Rich’s level. He waves his other hand as he talks. “I mean, I coulda used the money. Things are kinda rough at home, if you know what I’m sayin’…” He trails off with a vague gesture, as if Jeremy should know what he’s talking about.

Michael feeds information into Jeremy’s brain. “Yeah, my dad… drinks… too…” He frowns at what he said and glances at the shorter boy. _Was that true?_

**Rich is having a hard time at home. His dad drinks, his mom is gone but like… dead gone, and his brother is off in the military. He’s pretty much left all alone every day.**

Rich rants on. “Yo, fucking dads, right?! He usually passes out by nine.” He removes his arm from Jeremy’s shoulder and turns to face him so he’s walking backwards as they wander down the hallway. “You should come over, play Xbox.” He leans forward and whispers. “You know with a squip, the only controller you need… _is your mind?_ ”

Jeremy blinks in surprise. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, I know, right?” Rich says with a grin. It vanishes as he looks around the hall. Then, he goes up on his toes to inspect Jeremy. Despite the invasion of personal space, Jeremy lets Rich analyse his features. Finally, he plants his feet on the ground and asks his question.

“So… who does yours look like?”

Jeremy stops in front of his locker. Rich leans on the one beside it. He sputters at the question.

“What do you mean-”

Rich fires guess after guess at him. “Is it Christine? Your dad? Your mom? Rachel Starr? _Brent Corrigan_?” None of this changes Jeremy’s expression. Rich’s jaw drops when he considers his final option. “It’s Michael, isn’t it?”

Jeremy pleads in his head what he should say next. He sees Michael materialise behind Rich. Michael nods, as if approving, then vanishes. Jeremy looks back at Rich and nods, small but quick.

Rich looks over his shoulder and jerks a thumb in that direction. “That was him, wasn’t it?” He laughs. “My god, they’re a lot more similar than I thought they’d be.” He sees Jeremy’s confused doe-eyed look and explains himself.

“They’ve told you why they look like they do, right?” He pauses and continues after Jeremy nods. “Well,” he draws out the word, “my theory here is that they take on the form of whoever you’ve got the biggest hard on for. I mean, people use sex to get what they want. Why can’t computers do the same, you know?”

Jeremy flinches at the blunt statement. “What makes you say-! I’m not-! Michael isn’t-!”

Rich puts out his hands in front of him in a placating gesture. “It’s all good, no judgement here. I may or may not be bi.” He drops his voice so only Jeremy could hear. “Mine looks like Jake.” When he sees Jeremy’s disbelief, he laughs as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “Yeah, it was… It was something when I first saw him.”

“But you and Jake talk all the time. I see you guys. Doesn’t it get confusing?”

Rich coils in on himself and starts fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He winces – most likely a shock from his squip – but he continues fiddling. “It did, at first. But then it’s like having the best of both worlds.” He smiles, but it’s only with his lips and it looks sad. “You get to keep your friendship with one while you live out your fantasies with the other.” He looks beyond Jeremy with a wistful look. The other boy turns around, finds nothing, then understands.

_This is what he must have looked like with Michael._

Rich jolts, quite literally, from his reverie. His eyes show pain but he brushes it off with a gruff tug at his shirt. He waves Jeremy goodbye.

“See you around?” He also raises his eyebrows and nods in a nonverbal way of asking if Jeremy will come over soon. Jeremy smiles, small and soft, and shakes his head. Rich shrugs and moves on.

Jeremy looks into his locker and starts shuffling things around. “What was that about? Why is he suddenly so friendly and honest with me?”

 **I synced with his** **squip. Now you both want the same things.**

“And that makes him act like we’re friends?”

 **What is friendship but a bond between two people? You and Rich have a bond, it’s just digital. Doesn’t make it any less real, though.** Michael grazes his fingers at the back of Jeremy’s hand. Jeremy shivers and looks at him with a hint of yearning.

Once Jeremy has taken his books from his locker, Michael puts an arm around his shoulder. He makes a sweeping gesture at the crowd.

 **Now get ready to more than survive!** He blinks. **You have drama practice with Christine, right?** He interjects as Jeremy thinks his response. **Great! Let’s see how you’ll get with the ladies!**

When Jeremy walks into the rehearsal room, he sees Chloe, Brooke and Jenna vacate the seats there. That leaves Christine sitting by herself. His face brightens as he approaches the chairs.

“Is this seat taken?”

Christine’s faraway gaze snaps back to look at Jeremy. She looks at the seat with worry. “I… don’t know.”

Michael whispers something into Jeremy’s ear. “Then how about I sit here ‘til whoever shows up?” he offers.

“Sure.”

Jeremy sits beside her. Silence draws out between the two of them. She fidgets with her fingers. She looks at him and blurts out, “Hey, are you okay?”

“What?”

“At the mall yesterday, you were acting really-” she shakes her hands to imitate what happened to him at the mall.

“Performance art,” Jeremy states after a prompt from Michael.

“Oh… Cool…”

Mr. Reyes begins rehearsal and they work their way through the script. Jenna and Chloe begin the scene, performing with the calibre expected from rehearsal. The have versed performances but it is unpolished. Chloe is flat and unconvincing, while Jenna enunciates and drawls her words. Jeremy and Christine are still sequestered in their little corner of seats.

“Where’s Jake?” he asks as Jenna delves into a monologue.

Christine shifts in her seat so she’s angling away from Jeremy. She fiddles with the hem of her skirt. “How should I know?”

“You guys aren’t going out?”

“No-”

Jeremy leans towards Christine, excited. “Really?!” His voice carries out through the rehearsal room. Everyone turns to stare at him.

Mr. Reyes draws his shoulders back and raises an eyebrow at Jeremy. “Mr. Heere!” he says. “Your script is closed. Which I can only assume means you’ve memorized your entire part.” He sneers. “Please, regale us.”

Jeremy freezes in his seat. At that, Mr. Reyes shakes his head. “Or perhaps you’re simply wasting our—”

Jeremy jumps out of his seat. Once again, he is surprised at how the squip can control his body. His mouth moves on its own accord as he recites his lines. Now that he understands, he attempts to accompany it with appropriate gestures and expressions. He and Michael do make a good team, after all.

“If we zombies have offended, think but this and all is mended / that we have but landed here / while these spaceships did appear / and this weak and idle theme / no more yielding but a dream… _Or is it_?”

Mr. Reyes and everyone else is struck silent with his articulate performance.

“Well!  It seems the rest of you can learn from Mr. Heere’s commitment to the craft.” Mr. Reyes gestures at Jeremy but his sneer is still there. He rubs his temples and begins to wave everyone off. “Hot Pocket break!”

The cast scatters into different directions, with a few walking out of the room. Jeremy takes his seat and tips his head back in defiance for good measure. He leans back and even kicks his feet up on the seat in front of him.

 **Damn** **right we make a good team.**

Christine turns to Jeremy again, impressed. “Whoa, you’re really into this.”

“Why else would I be here?” he says.

“Yeah… Right…” Once she sees that they are alone in the rehearsal room, Christine sits closer so that she is right beside Jeremy. Jeremy shifts and sits upright in the chair. He feels a slight jolt in his body urging him to show body language indicating undivided attention. “Can I ask you something?”

 **Holy shit, buddy. This is it. Tell her “You can ask me** **_anything_.”**

“You can ask me _anything_ ,” Jeremy says, imitating Michael’s tone.

“Aww man, this is weird…” Christine takes a strand of her hair and fiddles with it. Her leg shakes up and down as she gathers her thoughts. Finally, she makes eye contact with Jeremy and starts her story.

“Say there’s this guy, right? And you’ve known him since… seventh grade. So, you’re used to thinking about him in a certain way from how he acts. But then, like, _something_ changes and he _also_ changes… So now he’s gone from this… guy that… I’d never be into… into a guy that… I’d _kinda_ be into? If that makes sense?” She covers her cheeks in embarrassment.

“Wait, is she talking about me?” Jeremy says in his head.

Michael materialises behind Christine. **Uh, yeah, buddy! I’ve been activating your pheromones. Keep it up!** He disappears.

Christine continues. “Like, you didn’t really know him that well and yet you thought you had him pegged. But _now_ he’s gone into that guy that I’d kinda be into so then it’s like… It’s all confusing and stuff.” Her eyes begin to look pleading. “Is he worth it, Jeremy?”

“Absolutely,” Jeremy and Michael say to themselves.

Christine laughs as she stares off into the distance, self-reflective. “I don’t always relate to other people my age, except when I’m performing. And then there’s these… _changes_ that are happening to me and-” she trails off. “Why am I telling this to you?”

Jeremy begins to say something. It was something like ‘because you feel close to me and I feel close to you so please tell me you like me’. But, just before he could reply, Mr. Reyes walks into the room and so do the rest of the cast.

“Oh, back to play rehearsal!” Christine squeaks. Her expression changes so she could talk to Jeremy with seriousness. “I know that it’s weird but it’s totally true. The guy that I’d kinda be into…”

“The guy that you’d kinda be into…?”

“Yeah, it’s…” She blushes before she blurts it out. “…Jake!”

Jeremy’s mind goes blank. “What?”

**Warning. Warning. Warning.**

Christine bolts out of her seat to congregate with the cast. Jeremy also bolts out, but leaves the room instead with guidance from the squip. He finds himself going outside the school building.

He doesn’t feel… anything bad, to be honest. He expects a drop in his stomach, a pang in his heart, but there is nothing but relief. A weight lifted from his shoulders. An assurance that his problems aren’t what he made them out to be. If anything, he’s _rejoicing_ that Christine wasn’t talking about him. That means that…

_That means he doesn’t have to pretend anymore._

Not that he never liked Christine. No, she is a wonderful person and anyone would be lucky to have her in their lives. He admits to feeling slight excitement and infatuation for her. But, that’s only because he’s fascinated with her passion. How she devotes herself to her roles, how she embodies her characters to a tee, and how she maintains her own identity after all that. He could never understand how one person can have so much love for something. That is, until he began to understand that… He has the same kind of love Christine has, except that it was for some _one_.

_And that someone was Michael._

It's likely that he latched onto Christine because it made more sense to him. It gave him an outlet to exaggerate and build his feelings in hopes that they become real. It drew attention away from his truer, deeper, and underlying feelings for Michael. It gave him a distraction and a sense of normalcy. It was his security blanket from dealing with actual emotion. If he stuck with infatuation and the constant game of chicken with admitting his ‘feelings’ for Christine, then maybe his feelings for Michael will go away and all he’ll have is this _normal_ crush for a girl.

But now that he knows that Christine likes Jake, Jeremy now has to face the real issue at hand: Michael.

And, speak of the devil, Michael materialises in front of him. Michael is chewing at the drawstring of his hoodie. He has his headphones on and is pacing.

**You… Are you… Do you really…?**

Jeremy would’ve asked what Michael was talking about but he is reminded. What he has realised, Michael also knows.

He is Fucked, with a capital F.

“Michael, I… I was latching onto this idea of liking Christine because I thought-”

**Don’t. Say. Anything. Just… stay still.**

Michael steps forward, inching closer to Jeremy. He grabs Jeremy by the scruff of his shirt and pulls him flush to his chest. To someone on the outside, Jeremy is standing awkwardly in front of a wall. His breath is hitching and his hands fumble for balance. Michael tilts his head and stares at Jeremy’s lips. Michael leans in, still holding Jeremy by his shirt, and kisses Jeremy. He presses his lips against Jeremy’s, insistent and assertive. He licks and nibbles at Jeremy’s lower lip, evoking small moans and gasps from the other boy. Slowly, he loosens his grip on Jeremy’s shirt and smooths his hands down Jeremy’s chest. They settle on his hips. There is a pronounced heat coming from his hands. It makes Jeremy squirm and inhale sharply at the touch.

Jeremy reaches up to touch Michael, but Michael slaps his hand away. **I told you to stay still.** Jeremy’s hands settle by his sides. He clenches them into fists, digging his nails into his palms. Being touched but not having the freedom to touch back is enough to make him keen in frustration.

All too soon, Michael pulls away. His pupils have dilated. His chest rises and falls in slow intervals, as if he’s pacing his breathing lest he hyperventilate. It makes Jeremy’s heart clench even more because he looks _just like him_. Looks like the Michael he spends many afternoons with in his basement getting high. Looks like the Michael who got a matching Pacman tattoo with him. Looks like the Michael who stuck with him through twelve years of friendship.

_But it’s not him. And now he’s who Jeremy wants._

**Are you sure you want** **_him_?** **There’s** **plenty more attractive boys at school.** Michael’s eyes glaze over to white, scanning images of boys from the school. **I’m looking at footage from the boys’ football team. It’s…** **whew!** He blinks and his eyes are back to normal.

“I want Michael.”

 **You’re** **sure about that?**

Jeremy holds firm. “It took you kissing me to finally get the guts to say it, but yes.”

**Alright.**

“So how can I get him?”

**You can’t…**

“What-!”

 ** _Yet._** **Becoming the kind of man who can impress Michael takes more than working out a few… bugs. You’re gonna need to bump up your reputation, improve your social standing. What you need is to** **_upgrade_.**

“Huh?”

 **You need to get popular.** Michael swivels his head to a noise Jeremy can’t hear. **Tear ducts activate.** He vanishes.

Jeremy folds in on himself and begins to cry. He hears footsteps and feels a soft hand on his shoulder. “Jeremy!” Brooke says. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy says between sobs. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Brooke coaxes him up so that he’s looking at her. “I do.”

Jeremy is genuinely puzzled at that. “You do?”

When Brooke tells him that Eminem is dead, Jeremy freezes mid-sob. He stares at her in disbelief and lets her rant about the late artist as he converses with Michael.

“Did you know this was going to happen?”

**Of course not.**

“So, you’re saying it was a coincidence you told me to wear this shirt?”

**Nope!**

“Wait, what?! Did you… _kill Eminem_?!”

 **Noootttt…** **_really._** **Look, I said that you’ll thank me later for telling you to wear that shirt. This is the thing that will lead you to** **thanking** **me for my oh so excellent choice in fashion.**

“What are you saying-?”

Brooke catches Jeremy’s wrist. “It’s okay, Jeremy. You don’t have to be alone right now.”

Michael teleports beside Brooke. **You need to get popular. Here’s a popular chick who digs you. You need to follow where she goes.**

As Brooke leads him behind the school, Jeremy’s vision flashes and pixelates in places. He hears her talk about the back lot of the school being her favourite place, about how their ‘union is so near’, whatever that means.

“Being here with you right now…” Brooke says. Jeremy knows it’s her talking but he hears something disjointed in her voice. Parts of her face pixelate and glitch in and out of existence. He swears that he sees part of Michael’s face. Jeremy blinks.

“I’ll tenderly guide you…” Jeremy looks down on the hand holding his. He sees that it doesn’t match Brooke’s smaller, delicate hand. The hand holding his is larger, more familiar…

**“Just take me inside you forever.”**

Jeremy wants to flinch at Michael taking Brooke’s place. However, the squip restrains him from his sudden movements. It keeps him in place and acting like everything is normal. He blinks again and he sees Brooke once more, looking at him expectantly. She leads him to a tree and sits with him. She slowly lets her fingers touch his.

Beside her, Michael is holding a cane and wearing those white fancy silk scarves around his neck. He starts to sing a tune.

 **Your life was so pitiful before / Now it’s time to go all the way and more! / You gotta get an upgrade!** Michael dances around the cane and swings it around like a cheesy musical dance routine.

Jeremy can’t help but sing along to the tune, despite only knowing of its existence just now. _Upgrade!_ He sings in his head.

Michael takes off his scarf and begins to twirl it like a ribbon. His cane vanishes. **Upgrade! / Don’t worry about the guilt you’ll feel / Just take a breath and seal the deal / Damn! You gotta get an upgrade-yay-yay-yay-yade!** He tosses up the scarf so it disappears into the air.

Jeremy and Brooke sit under the tree for a while, admiring the sky and watching clouds go by. From the distance, Jeremy sees Christine walk out of school, followed by Jake. He sits up as he intently watches the two engage in conversation. Michael teleports so he’s close enough to eavesdrop on them. He looks back at Jeremy and relays their conversation.

 **Jake is inviting Christine to come over to his place. Now you don’t have to worry about anything.** He teleports back beside Jeremy and sits cross-legged with him. **Come on, Jeremy! We got a plan, now man up!** He gestures at Brooke. **We start with Brooke, then progress. Then we assess, and soon… success! Then finally –** **_finally_** **– Michael will fall in love with you.**

“Michael…” Jeremy mutters to himself. Flashes of memories of his best friend flash through his mind. Feelings and sensations associated with Michael also come flooding in. The prospects and possibilities of finally getting Michael to see how in love he is with him swirl through his train of thought. Jeremy’s breath quickens and hitches, he draws his hand away from Brooke’s, and he clutches a hand to his chest.

He excuses himself from Brooke and rushes back into school. “There’s too many voices in my head!” He runs to his locker. “I just need a minute to...process…” When he gets there, he sees Michael still hovering near him. Michael is fiddling with his hoodie drawstring again. “Alone,” he asserts. “Can you get out of my head for, like, five minutes?”

Michael looks around before shrugging. **Sure.**

Michael pixelates out of existence until he… reappears? But wearing a different outfit. He’s muttering something about feeling invisible.

“Dude, I thought you said you’d leave me alone,” Jeremy says out loud.

Michael furrows his brows at Jeremy’s strange statement. “What do you mean? This is the first time you’ve talked to me today. You’ve been avoiding me since we split up at the mall, remember?” Annoyance is dripping from his tone but he’s leaning towards Jeremy again, a sign that he still wants to get close.

Jeremy replies as if Michael isn’t following something so obvious. “We were talking about bumping up my reputation, remember?”

 _Reactivate_ , Jeremy thinks. Michael – no, the _squip_ – emerges. Seeing him stand beside the physical Michael makes Jeremy want to hurl. They both stand so alike, both look at him so alike, both _blink_ so alike.

**It’s called Optic Nerve Blocking. I’ve been blocking the corporeal Michael from your field of vision.**

“Wait, what?”

**I didn’t wanna confuse you. You don’t wanna end up like poor Rich who has to deal with two different Jakes?**

“I guess you’re right…”

Michael waves a face in front of his friend. “Jeremy?  Why are you standing there all creepy and stuff?”

 **This Michael doesn’t know the half of what you’ve been through, but** **_I_** **do. This Michael will never touch you like I do. This Michael will** **_never_** **love you like I do.**

Jeremy’s stomach begins to churn. Seeing two versions of the same person before him is already too much. It’s like seeing double without crossing your eyes. The nausea and pain with looking at two people at once is creeping up on him.

“Seriously, what’s up with you? You’ve been acting shady ever since… since…” Michael – the _real_ one – trails off to contemplate. Finally, “It worked, didn’t it?” He laughs. “Jeremy! That’s amazing! We gotta test it out, we gotta celebrate, we gotta– get stoned in my basement!” He skips down the hallway.

Jeremy looks on as Michael traipses on.  The double vision feeling is fading, but his stomach is still twisting itself in knots. The other Michael, who is standing near him, holds his hand.

“It… it’s _him_ , but it’s _not him_ , you know,” Jeremy says. Tears of his own volition well up in his eyes.

It’s not the Michael who held his hand, not the one who kissed him last night. It’s not the Michael who knows how he feels, who also feels the same way, who _wants_ to be with him in the way that he wants.

A teardrop falls through Michael’s hand onto Jeremy’s. It’s a painful reminder that it’s _not him._

_But I’d rather have this than nothing at all._

“I don’t wanna be special,” Jeremy whispers, helpless. “I just wanna be chill as life will allow.” He looks up at Michael. “Should I take the upgrade?”

 **How do you want to live out the next month? In constant confusion between me and the** **_other_** **Michael? Or just with me, who knows you, who guides you, who** **_loves_** **you?**

Jeremy considers this. He wishes the physical Michael felt the same way for him. But that can’t be. That Michael deserves so much more than him. Deserves so much more than a gangly, awkward mess who sucks at video games. Deserves so much more than an anxious ball of worry wrapped with a ribbon of doubt. Deserves so much more than the lousy, pathetic, terrible Jeremy Heere.

 _If the only way to be with him is to be with_ him _, then so be it._

“Fine,” Jeremy says. “I’ll take the upgrade.”

**Fantastic.**

Jeremy hears a voice from down the hallway. “Jeremy? Are you coming?” He looks at Michael – the physical one – one last time. He savours that radiant smile, the bright brown eyes, the dimple on his cheek. A small part of him wants to keep that genuine part to himself. But, another larger part of him is tamping down that hopeful glimmer of something real. That larger part veils that hope with a twisted definition of real. It masks its shine until it is nothing but a dull glow in the back of his thoughts. Jeremy seeks out that hopeful glimmer, but the squip has different plans.

Without warning, Michael grabs him again by the scruff of his shirt. This time, it’s rough and he growls. **Say it.**

Jeremy nods and recites. “Optic Nerve Blocking: On.”

The Michael who is standing at the end of the hallway pixelates until he blends into the walls of the school. Jeremy wants to feel a sense of loss, but the Michael standing next to him grabs him by the chin.

Michael forces Jeremy to focus on him.

In one last indulgence of his desire, Michael pulls Jeremy in for another kiss. This time, his lips want to claim Jeremy as his own. He uses the energy he absorbed to create a bruise immediately below Jeremy’s collarbone. In some primal part of Michael, he sees it as a physical stamp to show who the boy really belongs to. He still enforces the no touching rule as he lets his hands wander across Jeremy’s body. While Jeremy’s hands stay clenched and shaking by his sides, Michael touches him in places Jeremy himself didn’t know he liked to be touched. Jeremy stands still and takes the sensations as they come until Michael pulls away, satisfied. He runs a hand through his hair, exhales sharply through his mouth, and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

**Now, let’s get to work.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you looked up Rachel Starr and Brent Corrigan at your own discretion :P


	3. The Day of the Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Halloween party's a rad excuse to put your body (and mind) through mad abuse. Someone might pass out but it's alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my sincerest apologies for such a late update! OTL i didnt realise how much effort studying would take

_October 30 th, 5pm_

It’s been a few days since the upgrade. Or has it been a few weeks? A month? It’s hard to tell. Ever since having Michael around in his house, Jeremy didn’t think to keep track of time. Michael always knew what time and date it was. But somehow, right after Michael tells him the time, Jeremy always forgets or doesn’t think it’s so important anymore. After all, what _is_ time when you’re around someone you love? A minute can last a century, while a whole day could pass by in a blink.

They bought a costume a few days ago for Jake’s Halloween party: a skinsuit with a circuit pattern. Everyone is invited and it’s a great opportunity to further Jeremy’s reputation.

As Jeremy puts on the form-fitting costume, Michael watches him. Pulling the bottom half of the costume up his thigh earns a head tilt from Michael as if he’ll get a better view from doing that. Feeling a surge of confidence rush through him, Jeremy drags the snug fabric up against his skin, covering his thigh inch by inch. He arches his foot, then fixes the suit down his leg. He makes sure to keep a tantalising pace as he smooths out creases and folds. Hearing Michael draw in a sharp breath through his nose makes Jeremy’s heart flutter. He continues riding the high by repeating the process with his other leg. After a particularly stubborn seam on his thigh, Jeremy hears Michael cough. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees that Michael has crossed his legs and is levitating a few inches off the ground.

Jeremy shrugs on the top half of the suit. He reaches for the zipper and pulls it with that same tantalising pace he did before. Once the costume is on, he smooths out the folds he finds. He drags his hands down his chest, then by his waist to settle them on his hips. He turns around and spreads out his arms, presenting himself to Michael.

“What do you think?” Jeremy asks.

Michael is biting his knuckles as he rakes his eyes down Jeremy’s slim frame. He takes in every detail: how the fabric clings to his skin, how it frames his shoulders and waist in a way that he looks irresistible, and how naked Jeremy looks while still being fully clothed. Michael clears his throat and floats down to the ground.

 **What do _I_ think? **He grabs Jeremy by the hips and pulls him flush. He leans in to nuzzle at the lanky boy’s neck. He takes in the intoxicating smell of fear and arousal mixing into one scent. He breaches SQUIP protocol and licks a line from Jeremy’s neck up to his ear, where Michael nips at for a second. This elicits a gasp from Jeremy but the other boy doesn’t move. He knows full well that he can’t touch Michael unless he’s given permission. That permission comes… almost never.

 **I think you look _ravishing_. ** Michael whispers into Jeremy’s ear, making that scent spike up again. Michael reels with excitement from feeding off Jeremy’s compliance. He takes Jeremy’s face in his hands.

**By the way, I forgot to tell you but your shoes are wack.**

Jeremy looks down at his boots. “Are you saying I should-?”

 **Not those. I mean the ones you wore on the other day.** He lets go of Jeremy’s face to lift a hand in the general direction of the shoes in question. A pair of Vans levitates and glide towards them.

“I don’t understand how they would be-”

 **Vans in the 21 st century?! Who are you, _Daniel_ from that meme? Fuck off and get some Chucks like a normal person. ** He flicks his wrist and tosses the shoes against the wall, landing with an audible thump.

“But, dude, Chucks are expensive. And besides, I spent all my bar mitzvah money on-”

Michael clenches his fist and raises it. Jeremy’s words are stuck in his throat and he is pawing at it.

**Did I fucking stutter?**

Jeremy shakes his head, eyes wide as they plead for Michael’s mercy. Finally, Michael relents and unclenches his fist. Jeremy gasps, wheezes, and coughs. _Safe once again._

Michael drags his hands down his face. **Great, you pissed me off. And I thought it was going to be a good evening.** He sighs and walks to the door. He turns to Jeremy, giving him that blank look where he’s trying to contain his temper.

**You ready?**

Jeremy nods. He walks to the door, opens it for Michael, and follows him out of the house.

* * *

 "Who's ready for my Halloween party?!" Jake Dillinger cries out to the amassing crowd in his living room. He gets whoops and screams of agreement in response.

Jake recognises some of the people that walk in. Chloe is dressed like a baby, Brooke like a sexy dog, Jenna in a clown costume, and Rich in…

“Who are you supposed to be?” he asks his friend. Rich fumbles and brings out a mask.

“I stole my older brother’s Jason mask.”

Jake laughs. “Why do you need a mask when your face is already scary?”

Rich’s face contorts into an offended expression. “Your ass is mine, Jacob Dillinger!” he shouts. He charges up to the taller boy and tackles him onto the couch. Jake continues to laugh as he and Rich wrestle on the couch. They fight to get on top and pin the other boy’s hands above his head.

It’s a bonding ritual of theirs to do this. Sometimes it’s a nice stress relief from the pressures of school, other times it’s a distraction from their personal problems. Ultimately, it forces them to focus on the moment, to immerse themselves in the physicality of the act.

As always, Jake emerges on top and pins Rich’s hands above his head. He looks down on the shorter boy. They’re both panting from the exertion and their cheeks have reddened.

“I only _let_ you win, asshole,” Rich says with a laugh. They get off of each other and smooth out their costumes. As Jake is fixing his wig, he swears that Rich is giving him this look. When he turns his head to look at Rich, the shorter boy is already focusing his attention to putting on his mask. Jake shakes away the beginnings of a revelation. Maybe he’ll come back to it later. Emphasis on the word ‘maybe’.

Meanwhile, everybody’s got a red solo cup and God knows what’s in them. At 7pm, there are already handful of intoxicated people at the party. Chloe is sophisticated, though, as she consumes her alcohol from a flask. She watches the party unfold and ensures to avoid anywhere she knows that Jake has been.

Like the living room.

She’s only seen the beginning of it, but Jake and Rich having fun like that makes her stomach clench. She hates to admit it but… they look like they’re perfect for each other.

Oh, don’t think she’s been turning a blind eye. Even the least popular kid in Middlebourough knows that Rich and Jake are the dynamic duo of the school. Ever since sophomore year, they’ve taken the school by storm with their comical contrast. Rich with his stature and gruffness, Jake with his athleticism and carefree attitude. Together, they’re the type of duo who could dunk your head in the toilet and you’d thank them for even noticing you. They could write ‘kick me’ on your backpack and your heart would flutter at the attention. It’s a cruel but thrilling way to feel about someone so infamous for making people’s lives hell.

But now, there’s something there that she hasn’t seen before. Something in Rich’s eyes when he looks at Jake. Almost like a yearning for something. Every time they touch, she could see that they get this feeling. And every time they get a little too close, she swears she could hear their hearts flutter.

_Wait…_

Did her thoughts just sync up to the Cascada song playing?

No matter, she’s too tipsy to care. She takes another swig from her flask.

Chloe watches Brooke bounce up to greet Jeremy Heere as he enters the party. He’s wearing a blue skinsuit with circuits on them and a translucent jacket on top with dark sunglasses. He takes off the sunglasses to acknowledge Brooke. Something about this kid, Chloe thinks, that seems… off. Something about gaining his popularity way too quickly for it to be natural. Her thoughts become hazy as the alcohol makes its way through her bloodstream. She has bits and pieces of wonderings she wants to pursue, but the sting and the heat of the vodka in her throat draws her attention away from getting existential. She leans back and watches on with droopy eyes.

“I was afraid you weren’t coming,” Brooke says to Jeremy, tugging at the ears on her head. “Did you get my message?”

“Am I late?” Jeremy replies while quickly checking his phone for the time. “Didn’t even realise.”

Brooke bites her lip at the pang she feels in her heart. Her eyes sweep over her furs and she changes the subject.

“What do you think of my costume?” She twirls for Jeremy to show off her getup, taking care to turn a little slower when her ass is in Jeremy’s line of vision. “I figured that you always see sexy cats, but no one ever goes as a sexy _dog_.” When she looks back at him, he is pensive.

“It’s… original,” he says, keeping that neutral expression. Brooke feels a sting in her heart and manifests this with a severe pout. She tugs at the furs on her wrists and hunches her shoulders.

Jeremy shakes his head, already feeling conscious that he’s upset Brooke. “I mean, amazing,” he corrects, despite feeling a tingle in his jaw for giving a specific compliment instead of the one Michael prompted. “I can’t believe I’m with a girl who looks like you.” Despite Michael’s sour look at him, Jeremy juts his chin up in defiance.

The pout is still there on Brooke’s face, but her tone perks up. “Chloe said it was dumb! Oh, and you need a drink!” She rushes to the kitchen to get Jeremy one of those colourful drinks. Cruisers, that’s what they’re called!

Now alone, Jeremy talks with Michael. “Did you see the look on her face? She thought I stood her up!”

 **And she was happy when it turns out you didn’t! Bro, you of all people should know that people want what they don’t have.** Michael demonstrates his point by pulling Jeremy in and placing a hand around his waist. He nuzzles Jeremy’s neck. **Better have a look and see who’s here.** He pulls away all too soon, as usual. Jeremy keens at the rush of air from not having Michael close.

Jeremy sees Christine and Jake conversing. Jake is dressed as Prince. Christine is wearing an elegant dark grey dress that harkens back to the Renaissance era. She looks stunning with that furry white trimming with black spots and that beautiful headband. Finally, to top off the graceful look, the fabric drapes and glitters in the dim lighting. If Jeremy is to be honest, he’d say she’s the most beautiful girl at the party.

Jake points to the kitchen and Christine heads towards there. Now separated, Michael prompts Jeremy to follow Jake to where the rest of the partygoers are. The stereo is playing some bass-filled song. He spots a ring of people forming around someone dancing. As Jeremy weaves through the crowd, he sees that it’s Jake moving his body to the beat. Considering that he does pretty much every extra-curricular offered at school, he wouldn’t be surprised if Jake knew how to dance.

**Come on. Let’s spice up the party.**

He feels Michael push him past the ring and into the space with Jake. The taller boy tilts his head at him but shrugs, stepping back to give the floor to Jeremy.

Before he could retreat back into the crowd, Michael is already guiding him with moves he never knew he could do. Gyrating his hips and strutting this way and that, Michael controls Jeremy’s body with his hands like he’s a conductor and Jeremy is the orchestra. With ease, he bops and rocks to the rhythm, earning cheers and whoops from the crowd. He even sees Rich smile and wink at him, a private moment between the two where they enjoy the fruits of their (guided) labour.

Jeremy grins at the crowd’s response and he feels Michael’s grasp on his body loosen. Before he goes back into the ring of people, Jake steps forward and spreads his arms. Jeremy goes in for a brief hug and the taller boy whoops and gives Jeremy more praise for his sick moves. Rich comes up to Jeremy and claps him on the back.

“Squip been treating you well?” he asks. He brings Jeremy down to his level and he pitches his voice low as he speaks into his ear. “It’s not gonna last forever, buddy. Just warning you.”

Jeremy wrenches himself from Rich’s grasp and raises an eyebrow at him. Rich’s eyes have gone wide and shifty, his hands are trembling as they tug and scratch at his jacket. He twitches his head and he slaps his face. The slap made him recompose himself and let his usual cocky grin return. Jeremy wants to ask if he’s alright but his jaw feels too heavy to move.

Chloe, who has been watching Jeremy during his little display, approaches him. She puts care in every step she takes to mask her inebriation. The contents of her flask are empty, so she’s been filling her baby bottle with all manners of alcoholic concoctions. She waves the bottle as she talks. “I’m supposed to get you,” she says. “Brooke has a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?” Jeremy asks. The poor boy doesn’t even look like he’s had a sip of alcohol yet. His eyes are too alert, too sharp, too… dangerously attractive.

An impulsive part of Chloe that wants revenge against Jake comes up with a plan. It’s not fully formed yet, but damned if she doesn’t follow through with it. “The kind where you don’t ask questions and follow me upstairs.”

She leads him away from the crowd and up the staircase. Rich sees the two walking off and he gulps. He remembers being in Jeremy’s shoes all too well.

What’s the matter, babe? Little jealous that they’re about to have fun?

He swivels his head and he sees Jake. No, not the Jake wearing the Prince costume. The Jake in his head, the Jake who’s built who he is from the ground up, the Jake who pins him down in bed every night and gives him hickeys that disappear the next morning. _That_ Jake.

“No, no, no… You’re not… You can’t… Not now!” He compensates for the breathless feeling in his chest by focusing on the music and moving to it. He closes his eyes and sways to the rhythm. His arms and fingers feel numb from moving them so much, but his legs are stuck to the floor like they’re as heavy as lead.

Don’t worry, honey. We’ll have our own fun later. The night is still young.

He grits his teeth trying to block out Jake’s presence, which feels like a warm fog enveloping him. This party is meant to be a night away from him and he’ll do anything to keep him out.

As the song goes on, the passion in his movements gives way to panic. He isn’t dancing anymore, rather he’s taken to clinging to himself as he rubs his hands up and down his arms. His eyes are still screwed shut and he’s mumbling incoherent words to drown out whatever Jake is saying.

Rich, whatever you’re trying to do, it’s not. Going. To. Work.

“It’s Halloween… It’s Halloween…” Rich mumbles over and over. He dares to move his legs and begins pacing. When he doesn’t bump into anyone, Rich opens his eyes and finds that he’s alone. He looks around the room that now has red cups strewn across the floor. He spots a cup with something in it. He steps closer to it, considers drinking it, but flinches away from it. _God damn squip still shocking him every time he wants to drink._ He sits down on the couch and curls up on it, rocking himself. Maybe if he sleeps long enough, he won’t have to deal with Jake messing with his head anymore.

Upstairs, Chloe leads Jeremy to a bedroom. “Jakes’ parents’ room,” she says. She sees the concern on Jeremy’s face. “Don’t worry. They’re not using it.” She winks, slow and seductive. Jeremy tugs at the collar of his costume.

“Wow, you really know your way around,” he says.

Chloe sits herself on the edge of the bed. Jeremy does the same. “Yeah, I’ve had sex in pretty much every room in this house.”

Jeremy squeaks and covers it with a cough.

“Because I dated Jake! God, what kind of slut do you think I am?” She takes a long swig from her baby bottle.

“Where’s Brooke?”

At that, Chloe can’t help a bark of laughter escaping from her lips. “You are too freaking adorable.” She leans towards him and exaggeratedly whispers, “Brooke’s not coming.”

Jeremy’s innocent doe eyes still look confused. “She’s not? Then why…”

Chloe leans back and arches her back just so that her chest juts out. “Do you wanna, like, hang? Just us, talking about feelings and shit?” She continues when she hears no response. Her voice takes on a suggestive tone. “If I get wrecked, you could rock this baby fast asleep.” She let her legs spread.

Jeremy looks over to Chloe and understands the message with belated clarity. He gulps and he excuses himself. “I have to go.”

Michael materialises and holds down his thighs. He shakes his head, slow and threatening.

“I can’t stand up,” Jeremy thinks aloud.

**You’re welcome.**

“I don’t know she’s so crazy about you. You’re not that cute.” She pauses. “No offense.”

“None taken. Hey, I really should get back-”

“You know she’s not that innocent.” She shifts so she’s on her side. “That wounded puppy routine? It’s how she gets all the guys. Acts all helpless so they want to protect her.” She brings her bottle to her lips. “Not that I care,” she says before taking a swig.

They sit on the bed in silence for a moment. Then, it dawns on Jeremy…

“You’re jealous of Brooke!”

“Um. _Obviously,_ I’m not.”

Jeremy starts on a rapid train of thought. “That’s insane!  Why would you be jealous of anyone? You’re the hottest girl in school!” His face falls and his stomach drops. “Did I just say that out-”

He feels Chloe pounce on him, kissing him hard. Her lips are soft but they’re pushing too hard and the angle is a little off. He tries pulling away.

“Whoa, whoa! Make it stop!” he says, crying out to Michael.

**And turn down free pussy? I don’t think so.**

Chloe pulls away, frustrated. “Why are you being so coy? Do you want to have sex or not?” She shakes her head and hands him the bottle. “Maybe this will loosen you up. It’s not actually milk,” she says with another slow wink.

“Oh…” Jeremy stares at the bottle. “I’m not actually a big…” Michael grips his wrist and forces him to drink. “Drinker!” he yelps before swallowing some of the bottle’s contents.

Michael swats the bottle from Jeremy’s grip. He grabs him by the neck and pushes him so that he’s forced to kiss Chloe.

Chloe grins into the kiss and takes the lead. She wraps her arms around his neck and she leans up, biting at Jeremy’s lower lip. Every inch of Jeremy wants to flinch away but he still feels Michael’s grip on his neck so he goes through the motions. Objectively, the kiss should be pleasant, but Jeremy feels that it is anything but.

He almost cries out in relief when he hears a knock on the door. Chloe pulls away and gestures for him to be quiet.

“Jeremy?” Brooke calls out from the other side. “Are you in there? Jenna Rolan said she saw you go upstairs.” She knocks again, more insistent this time. “Jeremy?”

The two of them look at each other with bated breath as they wait Brooke out. Finally, they hear her footsteps fade into the hallway. Jeremy exhales, letting out the tension in his shoulders. Michael isn’t gripping his neck anymore so he rubs the area where he felt the most pressure.

“If Jenna Rolan saw us…”

“Jenna Rolan should mind her own business.”

“Brooke’s going to find out! Don’t you care?”

“You’re less cute when you’re talking.”

Jeremy pleads to Michael. “Help me out here!”

Michael materialises, but he’s floating at the corner of the room. **Konichiwa!**

Jeremy stares at him.

 **Sorry, Jeremy. Language chip’s busted ‘cuz of the booze.** He tries to explain more but it comes out in Japanese and Jeremy’s anger is taking over.

“Then why did you make me drink it?!”

 **Opportunities. Bigger picture. You’ll thank me-** He rambles some more in Japanese. Jeremy scoffs and shuts him off.

Chloe pushes herself off of Jeremy. “Whatever, I’ve had enough-”

A louder, pounding knock on the door. “Jeremy Heere?!” Jake yells through the door.

Chloe’s annoyance morphs into mischief. “Ooh, the fun begins.”

Jeremy’s eyes widen. “Is that Jake?”

“Jeremy,” Jake says through gritted teeth. “I know you’re not having sex on my parent’s bed because if you were, _I’d have to rip your balls off_!”

“Great!” Chloe yells back. “Then you can both be ball-less!”

There is a beat of silence. “… _Chloe_?” Jake says.

The doorknob rattles as Jake tries to get in. After finding it useless, he starts throwing himself at it, shoulder first.  _THUD. THUD. THUD._

Chloe starts to moan and pound her hands against the sheets. “Oh, hear that? I’m having _hot sex_ with Jeremy all over your parents’ linens!”

Jeremy’s voice crosses over with Chloe’s. “No, we’re not! I swear we’re not!”

The thudding on the door stops. Long moments pass. Jeremy looks at Brooke. “Maybe he believed me and went away.”

The window breaks as Jake’s fist smashes through it. Jeremy screams, high and shrill.

 **Kei-koku, kei-koku.** Jeremy is distracted for a moment because of Michael’s disembodied Japanese voice.

While his attention is somewhere else, Chloe seizes the opportunity before her. She unzips the top half of Jeremy’s costume and peels the sleeves off his shoulders. She straddles him and starts to grind on him. Jake gets his head above the windowsill.

“You’re fucking dead, Jeremy!” Jake says.

“Go away, we’re busy screwing!” Chloe retorts.

Jeremy pries himself from Chloe and scrambles for the door, quickly shrugging on his costume. He opens it to reveal Brooke, who is standing with her jaw slack.

“Jeremy?” There is a hint of betrayal in her voice.

“Brooke!” Jeremy stands there, frozen. Finally, Jake pulls himself through the window.

Jake starts sprinting for Jeremy, who looks at Brooke with pained eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he says before pushing her aside and running into the hallway. Jake chases him.

“I’ll kill you, Jeremy!” He stumbles across the hallway, bouncing off walls in some places. His sprint slows down to a jog, which slows to a complete stop. He leans on one wall and starts to massage his temple. “Oh man, I shouldn’t have drunk so much Peach Schnapps,” he mumbles to himself. He leans on the wall and begins to slide down it.

Chloe emerges from the room, sees Jake, and rolls her eyes. She stumbles over to him and drags him back into his parents’ room, where she kicks the door shut.

Meanwhile, Jeremy sprints into a bathroom and locks the door shut behind him. He takes several deep breaths, in and out, in and out. He flicks on the light switch and finds that the bathtub is filled with crushed cups and wrappers. He clicks his tongue and sits on the edge of the tub, rubbing his hands over the smooth, cold porcelain.

Something reaches for Jeremy’s hand. When he looks down, he sees that it’s a scaly claw. He screams as it grabs him by the arm. The hand pulls itself up, revealing…

“Michael?” It doesn’t look like the Michael who walked into the party with him. He looks more solid, more flawed, wearier. _This must be him!_

“Sup,” Michael – _the real one_ – greets as he sits up in the tub. He removes his scaly claws and begins to shrug off the crushed cups, which turns out to be a net of trash and plastic. A part of his costume.

“I didn’t know you were invited to this party.”

“I wasn’t. Which is why I’m wearing…” he gestures to the fake trash in the tub, “this clever disguise!” He sees that Jeremy is staring at him with this awed expression, like he… misses him? He reverts to sarcasm to combat that creeping warmth in his heart after seeing his best friend again after who knows how long.

“What’s the matter? _Squip got your tongue_?”

“It’s… off.”

“That would explain why you’re talking to me.” He sees Jeremy’s guilty expression but presses on with his bitterness. It’s not that easy to get away with avoiding him, so he tries for scathing. “I’ve been thinking about this moment… What I would say to you… I had this really pissed off monologue, an epic journey through twelve years of friendship…” He gives up when he sees Jeremy look at him like he’s sunshine and Jeremy only ever known the cold winter. Michael sighs, defeated but fond. “What?”

“It’s really good to see you, man.” Jeremy picks up Michael’s costume and tosses it away so he could get in the tub and hug him.

The other Michael never let Jeremy hold him at night. He always insists on sleeping on his side and that’s it. He never really got the chance to touch him at all since the day he took the squip. But now, holding the _real_ Michael – grasping his black sweater with the word ‘creep’ printed across it, pressing their bodies together, taking in his familiar smell of soap and something woodsy – is a novelty that Jeremy will relish and bask in forever. He even curls up beside Michael and rests his head on his chest.

Michael is frozen in surprise at Jeremy’s sudden tactility. He welcomes it anyway, pulling Jeremy closer and absentmindedly running his fingers through the other boy’s hair. It’s a little damp from running, but it’s soft nonetheless. He lets his fingers card through the strands as they slip easily between them. He looks down at Jeremy to see his reaction and finds that the other boy is leaning up to the touch and sighing in contentment. He continues playing with his hair.  

“I found out some stuff,” Michael says to break the silence. He did come here for a reason.

“About…?”

Michael taps his temple.

“But how? There’s nothing on the internet-”

“Which is weird, right? I mean, what’s _not_ on the internet?” Michael recalls his research.  “So, I start asking around. Finally, this guy I play Warcraft with… Told me how his brother went from a straight D student to a freshman at Harvard. You know where he is now?”

Jeremy looks up with a sheepish but hopeful look on his face. “Really happy and successful?”

Michael shakes his head. “He’s in a mental hospital. Totally lost it.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with…”

“Think, man!” Michael turns so that he’s facing Jeremy. “We’re talking an insanely powerful super-computer. You really think its primary function is to get you laid?” He begins to gesticulate as much as the space in the tub would allow. “Who made them? How did they end up in a high school _in New Jersey_? Of all possible applications for such a mind-blowingly advanced technology, you ever wonder what it’s doing inside _you_?”

Jeremy wrenches away from Michael so he’s sitting on the other side of the tub. “Yes! Loving me like you never will!”

The confession burst from Jeremy and it was too late to take it back. The words echoed and bounced through the walls for a second, but to them, it might as well have gone on for minutes. It’s a weight off Jeremy’s shoulders and a weight on Michael’s. For Jeremy, he’s laid it all out on the line, waiting for Michael to respond. For Michael, it’s a fork in the road that is his relationship with Jeremy, where one wrong turn can mean the end of their friendship and everything he’s ever known.

The two boys look at each other from across their huddled positions in the tub. Jeremy has brought his knees close to his chest while Michael is sitting cross-legged. _This is it_ , Michael thinks. This is where he takes a turn at the fork in the road. Everything he’s done has ultimately led to this moment, but he didn’t think it would be in circumstances like these. But he’ll make do.

_Stop beating around the bush and do it, Mell!_

Michael inches closer to Jeremy. “I do love you, you know. But right now, it’s hard to do that.” Jeremy’s eyes become desperate but Michael speaks again. “You’re not him anymore. You’re not the Jeremy I knew.”

Now it’s Jeremy’s turn to explain himself. “But it’s not me, I swear! It’s the squip!” His shoulders hunch as he looks away. “It looks like you, you know…”

Michael chuckles. “In that weird way you say people look like things when they’re really not?”

“I’m serious, dude! He actually looks like you. Acts like you, thinks like you…” Jeremy pauses before he lets himself be honest. “Holds my hand like you never will…”

Michael is struck with the conviction and defeat in Jeremy’s voice. His instinct kicks in and he inches even closer so he could take Jeremy’s hand in his. He clears his throat before singing his reply.

“Does he touch you like this? And does he kiss you like that?”

_Shit! Really, Mell? Celine Dion?_

Michael doesn’t give Jeremy a chance to feel confused when he kisses him. As they kiss, he guides their legs so that they’re bracketing each other’s waists. He pulls them even closer together as he cups Jeremy’s jaw with both his hands. He lets Jeremy take the lead with this kiss, allowing him to nibble at his lower lip and explore a rhythm that they can fall into. It’s all teeth and weird angles at first, but as Michael coaxes Jeremy to tilt his head like that, their mouths slot together perfectly and warmth spreads through the both of them.   

It doesn't feel like Jeremy is pawing at the air. It feels more real, more tangible, more imperfect than ever and no squip simulation can imitate what it feels like to be this close to Michael. They break away for air and they touch foreheads as they catch their breath. He looks up at Michael through his lashes and Michael’s heart stops at the perfect and vulnerable image.

“I can’t believe you serenaded Celine Dion at me as our first kiss,” Jeremy says with a giggle. Michael laughs as well and shakes his head. Then he clears his throat and changes the subject.

“I haven’t told you the last part.”

Jeremy leans back and lets Michael continue his story. “He went crazy trying to get his squip out. There’s something in those pills, man.”

Jeremy fiddles with the hem of his sleeve. “I think I know why he would do that.”

Michael perks up at the possible lead. “You do? Is it something it tells you to do?”

“It’s doing this thing where it forces to be obedient. Whenever your mind starts to wonder about what it’s trying to do, it distracts you from the thought or it shocks you out of it.”

“Like an obedience circuit?”

“Exactly! That!”

“Holy shit,” Michael breathes. “When he saw how manipulative the squip was, he did everything he could trying to get rid of it…”

“So how _do_ we get rid of it?”

“I’m still working on that part. I have an idea but I might need to ask around some more so I know it’s legit.” He kisses Jeremy once more. “We’re gonna get through this, you hear me? Two player game, just like always.”

Jeremy nods, but his eyes widen. He brings a hand to his temple. “M-Michael… It’s coming back…” He looks at him and crams his words. “Whatever I say for the rest of the night, _don’t believe me_. It’s the squip talking and it’s _not me_ , I swear.”

Jeremy gets out of the tub and so does Michael. Michael sees Jeremy’s shoulders draw back and jut out his chin. He sees his friend adjust his costume and gain this air of swagger and composure. Jeremy glances back at Michael and his eyes look different. They’re steelier, piercing, and intimidating to look at. Michael nearly cowers at the death glare.

“Jeremy will never get rid of me. It’s impossible.” _That must be the squip_ , Michael thinks.

Jeremy heads for the door, but Michael blocks his way. “I’ll do anything it takes to save him from you.” Never has he said something with more resolution and belief in himself than that statement. He plants his feet on the floor and looks at Jeremy – _squipped_ Jeremy – with defiance.

“Move it,” Jeremy sneers.

“Or you’ll what?”

Jeremy steps up to Michael’s face. “Get out of my way, _loser_.”

Michael blinks at the word choice. Not because it hurt – hell, he’s called Jeremy a loser before and it was in a fond way – but because this supercomputer genuinely thinks he’ll be hurt by a comment like that. It’s laughable.

He steps aside to let Jeremy through and he shuts the door immediately behind him. Almost immediately, he hears someone else knock on the door.

“Hello! Other people have to pee!” he hears Jenna Rolan say from the other side.

Michael panics and replies in a falsetto. “I’m having my period!”

The knocking stops and Jenna replies, “Take your time, honey.”

Michael sits on the edge of the tub, taking deep breaths. With so much happening in such a short time and in such a small space, he needs the time to sit down and mull over it all.

Of course, it sucked that Jeremy left him after he took the squip, but he never realised how bad it was on his side. The kind of mental turmoil he must’ve gone through…

It still doesn’t change the fact that he was tossed aside. That the following day after they split up at the mall, Jeremy walked right past him as he waved hi.  That even during class, his eyes barely glanced at him, like he was invisible. That on that day they finally started talking, he was brushed off again by what he would eventually realise was an upgrade. He knew that the optic nerve blocking was to blame, but this isn’t about blame. It’s about acknowledging that Jeremy’s choice affected Michael and their relationship. That the subsequent choices are leading him further and further down a spiral that he might one day not be able to get out of.

If Michael doesn’t save Jeremy from the squip, then the squip will take Jeremy down with it. A small, bitter, and petty part of himself is thinking good riddance. But it’s overcome with a more pressing sense of loyalty, morality, and…

_Love?_

This isn’t the kind of love, Michael thinks, reserved for friends. With Jeremy, it’s something deeper, something more steadfast. Even though Jeremy has pushed him away, something in him knows that he’s worth taking back. It’s the least he could do after all the things they’ve been through: their first concert together, the gift he gave him for that birthday no one remembered, their entire high school career so far. Michael would do anything to get back the boy who’s stuck with him for twelve long years.

Holy shit. He loves Jeremy.

He loves the way he sticks out his tongue when he’s concentrating on a video game he’ll ultimately lose. He loves the way his cardigan is just that little bit oversized that the sleeves cover his hands. He loves the way his eyes light up when he’s talking about play rehearsal. He loves the way he lets Michael lean on him as they walk down the street like he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks. He loves Jeremy for all his flaws and imperfections, and he couldn’t think of anyone better to spend his life with.

And he’ll do his damnedest to save that boy.

He lurches off the edge of the bathtub and puts his disguise back on. He opens the door, looks around the hallway, and flees the party. Upon leaving, though, he could see Rich going from partygoer to partygoer and asking them for something. With every new person, he becomes increasingly annoyed. Michael rushes for the door before anyone could notice him.

Jeremy sees Michael in his trash costume leave the party. His eyes want to look at him for longer, but he feels a sting behind them. _Fucking squip._ He blinks and distracts himself from the pill by looking back at Christine, who he’s been talking to since he got out of the bathroom.

“Jake’s with Chloe at the moment. I think they’re having a talk.”

“That’s… productive. For them, not you, I mean.”

Christine shrugs. “He’s kind of a jerk, so…”

Rich bursts into the living room and shouts at no one in particular. “Seriously, where the fuck can I get some Mountain Dew Red?!” He turns his head, sees that Jeremy and Christine are there, and bolts back to where he came from.

Jeremy and Christine burst out laughing. “Popular people are _so_ messed up!” Christine says.

“Word,” Jeremy replies.

“I mean, you’re one of them.”

“What? No, I’m not!”

“Hello, guy who’s been _pucking_ his way through the cast of Midsummer?”

“I’m not-” Jeremy notices the pun. “Pucking?”

“I know, right? Just made it up.”

A silence stretches before them. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say right now.”

Christine’s eyes twinkle as she places her hand on top of his. “Say whatever’s on your mind.”

Jeremy’s head reels thinking about articulating all the whirlwind of events that is tonight’s party. He takes fragments of thought, places them together, but finds that they don’t fit. The fragments cloud his brain until he could think of nothing else but…

He lets a garbled wail escape his lips. Christine grins wide as she makes her own weird noise, clicking her tongue and growling at the same time. They exchange more weird noises until the passed-out party monster emerges from its slumber and makes its own drawn-out noise. They laugh and relax.

“It’s pretty killer to sit and chat with you,” Christine says. Her voice is soft and sincere.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s pretty killer for me too.”

Christine takes both of Jeremy’s hands in hers. She looks at him dead in the eyes, even though hers look nervous. “Will you go out with me?”

Everything goes to a standstill for Jeremy. Michael materialises and snaps his fingers in front of Jeremy’s face.

**Hello? Were you gonna tell me about the clusterfuck that was tonight or did I have to look through the footage?**

“I know what you’re trying to pull,” Jeremy thinks, gritting his teeth. “And I _will_ get rid of you!”

Michael scoffs. **We aren’t even halfway through achieving our goal! Now, come on, say yes to her!**

Jermy strains his voice when he replies to Christine. Every fibre of his being shakes with effort as he says his response. If it weren’t for the dim lighting, his blush would’ve been visible. “I… can’t…”

He feels a shock all over his body, making him wince and shiver. “Is there something wrong?” Christine asks. Bless her soul for taking all this in stride.

Behind her, Michael wrings his hands and his face contorts into a snarl. He makes a gesture and Jeremy lurches forward. Good thing that Christine draws back in time. **Fucking shit.**

“I’m sorry…” Jeremy wheezes. “I think you should go.” He slides back to the other side of the couch and curls in on himself. Christine rises from the couch, speechless but concerned, and leaves.

**You fucking idiot!**

Jeremy opens his eyes and finds Michael straddling him. He brings down a hand and slaps Jeremy so hard that his head lurches to the side as if he’s been physically hit. Michael grabs him by the scruff of his costume.

 **I’m trying to improve your _life_ here, fucker! Everything you have is because of me! ** He squeezes his eyes shut, takes a deep breath, and releases Jeremy. **I’m taking a break.**

Michael disappears, revealing to Jeremy that Rich has been watching nearby the whole time. Jeremy sits up and his rubs his cheeks to hide a blush.

Rich imitates the sound of a bomb exploding. “Hoo-ly shit, dude! And I thought _my_ night was going to shit!” His eyes glaze over for a second. “Got any Mountain Dew Red?”

Jeremy ignores Rich’s question. “Okay, this whole ‘no-drinking-while-squipping’ thing?  Would it have killed you to give me a warning?” He walks over to Rich. The shorter boy’s eyes have gone distant now. He is unresponsive when Jeremy waves a hand in front of his face. Jeremy shakes Rich by the shoulders. “Rich?”

Rich finches away from Jeremy’s grasp but his eyes are still distant. “ _Warning. Warning. Warning._ ” He walks out of the room.

“What’s wrong with him?” Jeremy wanders aloud.

**We gotta bail.**

“What-?”

**_NOW!_ **

* * *

No one really knows what happened in that fire. But it was a fire and it was by far the most exciting thing to happen in Middlebourough all year. Naturally, everyone has a version of their story. Naturally, everyone has an opinion about who did it and why. Naturally, everyone started to grieve for someone they barely know.

But not Jake Dillinger or Rich Goranski, the only two who had to suffer through it all.

The time is past midnight, nearing one o’clock, and everyone had left the party by now. Jake is cleaning up the crushed cups and mopping up the spilled drinks, one room at a time. Cleaning is therapeutic for him. The humdrum of work lulls him into a mental place of calm and tranquillity.

As he climbs upstairs, he could hear someone mumbling. It’s rushed, slurred words with the occasional hitch in breath from crying beforehand. Jake tiptoes to the source of the sound and ends up by the guest room. He presses his ear against the door.

“No body, no squip. No body, no squip. No body, no squip.”

 _Rich?!_ Jake listens some more. 

“I was never worthy enough for you. Why was I stupid enough to think that? Every night, we live out a lie that no one remembers in the morning. Every night, we-” Rich bursts into tears. Jake hears some scrambling, the sound of something scratching against something else, then silence.

Smoke pours in from beneath the door. Jake smells the overpowering scent of wood and plastic burning. He drops the garbage bag and rattles the doorknob. “Rich!” he cries out. “Rich, open the door!”

“No!” Rich’s voice rings out, distinct but faint. He must be further in the room. Jake rattles the doorknob some more.

“Come on, man! This shit ain’t funny! Open the door!” He pounds his fist against it, hoping his insistence will knock some sense into his friend.

He hears screams from outside the house. He rushes to the next room and looks out the window. His gut drops.

Rich has poured gasoline in the room and down the side of his house. The sound he heard was him lighting the match. The flames are engulfing the windows, the panelling down the side of the house, and even reaching some of the grass down below. He could see neighbours emerging from their homes and watching on like useless spectators. Jake rushes back into the hallway and dials 911. He barks out that there’s a fire in his house and that he and Rich are stuck inside. He gives his address when it’s asked of him. Once the operator tells him that the fire department is on their way, Jake hangs up and tries again for the door.

“Rich, please! We gotta get you out of there!” No reply.

Jake squares up and does a running start for the door. This time, he kicks near the doorknob and busts the door open. Smoke and ashes hit his face. Jake coughs and gets on his hands and knees. He squints, looking out for his friend.

Rich is laying down in the middle of the room, staring up at the ceiling. The match is now a burnt-up stick and the jug of gasoline is laying on its side, dripping. He’s poured out a complicated pattern of gasoline so that the fire inches closer and closer to him. Already, tongues of flames graze his jacket and pants. He makes no move and no sound. He continues to stare up, letting the embers consume him.

Rich feels someone dragging him and pulling him close. He looks up and finds Jake, his face covered in soot and sweat. Before he could protest, Jake drags the both of them out of the room and into the smoking hallway. Jake ensures to keep as close to the floor as they can.

Rich has been pushing Jake away as he drags them out. “Let go of me, tallass!” he shouts. Once in the hallway, he stands up to go back into the room, but Jake grips the sleeve of his jacket.

“I’m not leaving without you!” Rich snaps away from Jake’s grip. Jake presses on. “I love you too much to let you die, dude!”

There it is. That one small phrase. Rich’s hands clench into fists by his side. Tears sting his eyes and dampen his cheeks. His lungs breathe in smoke and dust from the burning house. Even in the brink of death, Jake manages to tease to Rich everything they could’ve been if only Rich were worthy of him.

Rich’s voice is barely above a whisper. “That’s exactly why I should die.” He heads straight for the room. He doesn’t remember much after that.

That’s because Jake has gone into the room after him and put him in a chokehold until the shorter boy passes out. Jake carries Rich in his arms, bridal style, and goes into the adjacent room. He looks out the window and finds the fire engine pulling up. He sticks his head out the window and gets the attention of the firefighters.

“Over here!” A few firefighters approach the house with a trampoline. Jake gazes upon Rich’s face. It’s soft, peaceful, and he looks so much more vulnerable asleep. Jake smooths out a crease in Rich’s brow with his thumb. He presses his lips against Rich’s. Who knows if he’ll ever see him again after this.

Jake looks down at the trampoline and the firefighters there. They are all gesturing for both of them to jump down. Jake climbs over the window and sits on the ledge, with Rich still in his arms. He scoots forward a little bit more…

He overbalances and falls, taking Rich with him.

The last thing he hears is a loud _crack_ until everything fades to black. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's ok, let it all out in the comments. my heart is breaking too T~T


	4. The Day of the Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rich and Jake deal with the aftermath of the fire. Jeremy and his SQUIP deal with the aftermath of the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god, it's been AGES since i've updated! >.> i'm trying to sort out some irl things ~~like getting ready for uni~~ and lately they've taken up a lot of my time. i haven't forgotten this fic or my other nanowrimo prompts, they'll all be posted eventually ^-^
> 
> im so thankful if you're still sticking around after all this time, it really means a lot
> 
> and! to make up for it, i've got a hefty, plot-heavy chapter right after these notes :0
> 
> if you're binge reading this, im thankful for you too! i hope you're enjoying the ride so far :D

They tell him he’s broken both his legs. They tell him he can’t make it to the school play without threatening to exacerbate his already fractured bones. They tell him he can’t move around the hospital without a nurse to push him in a wheelchair.

Jake Dillinger listens and acknowledges all of these things, but presses on anyway to find Rich. He plays by the rules as best he can, twisting them if he must. With a few strategic winks and the occasional puppy dog look, he finds out Rich’s room and hobbles his way there on crutches. Every step feels numb and painful at the same time, but he grits his teeth and walks. He has to know if Rich is alright, if he’s suffered any injures, if he’ll even make it to the next day.

He stands in front of Rich’s room and peeks in through the window. Jake’s stomach drops.

Rich is asleep, in a full body cast, and hooked up to an IV. There is a triangular brace suspended from the ceiling on the left side of the bed. Even while unconscious, Rich still has a weary crease on his face, as if not even sleep can distract him from his problems.

Jake turns the doorknob without making a sound and walks into the room, quiet as a mouse. He shuts the door behind him, but a creak in the hinges makes him wince. He looks over at Rich but finds no reaction. He limps over to the seat beside the bed and puts his crutches on the floor. He shifts the seat so that he’s facing Rich.

He’s seen the movies, the cheesy soap operas. Where the main character’s love interest ends up hospitalised and the main character visits them. Then they sit beside the love interest, like Jake is sitting now, and talks to them until they end up confessing their love. Then the love interest would miraculously wake up in time to hear that confession, then they kiss, then everything fades to black.

He wishes it were that easy. He wishes that life flowed like that, where everything works out and everyone is happy. Maybe some parts work out like in the movies, but movies are people’s way of tying up ends that can’t tie up in real life. He talks to Rich anyway, remembering that talking it out could help alleviate some of the pain he’s in, whether it be physical or emotional.

“Hey,” Jake says. He already feels silly for greeting Rich. He covers his cheeks so that his cool palms could lessen the blush there.

“Listen, I…” He pauses, gathering his thoughts. _What was he doing?!_

He takes a deep breath and starts again. “I couldn’t just leave you there. I didn’t know that you were going all through that kind of stuff… I blame myself that you couldn’t feel comfortable enough to talk to me about how you were feeling.” He runs a hand back and forth on his thigh, where the bandages on his legs begin. He focuses on the texture and the friction between the bandages and his fingers.

“Ever since sophomore year, I…” He shakes his head. “No, _freshman_ year. You thought that no one noticed you in freshman year but I did. I saw the quiet kid in the back of class look at me like I’m the sun when he thinks I’m not looking.” He laughs to distract himself from the aching in his chest.

“I hate to admit it, but I thought you were pretty cute back then. Floppy hair and oversized hoodies? I just wanted to pick you up and kiss you senseless.” He claps a hand on his mouth, realising how _gay_ he sounded. Not that… not that he’s _against_ gay people, he’s… he never thought that… he had it in him? Oh god, what was he thinking?! He clears his throat and leans back on the chair.

“I think I’ve said too much,” he mutters. “But just know that I care about you. I won’t leave your side until I know for sure that you’re going to be okay.” He falls asleep with the warm feeling of imagining Rich smiling again, happy and joking around like they used to.

Shortly after Jake has slept, Rich opens his eyes. He moves to sit up but feels agony and shooting pains all over his body. He flops back down, which spikes up the pain again, then sees the triangular brace. He grabs the brace and inches his way so he’s sitting up. He looks to the side and finds Jake beside him, head bowed as he sleeps.

“What… happened?” Rich wonders aloud.

Jake stirs in his sleep, but the other Jake – his squip – materialises at the foot of Rich’s bed.

Lover Boy saved you. Broke his legs in the process but… The other Jake shrugs. I gotta admire his courage.

The first thing that Rich feels is a fire in his heart. Something indignant and raging that’s boiling in him. Is he so bad at dying that he managed to get himself saved? Is he that horrible at getting rid of the squip that it’s still there despite everything he’s tried? He wants to cry out at his failure.

Shall I show you what he’s said while you were unconscious?

Doubt and curiosity replaces the anger from beforehand. “You sure you’re not fucking with me?” he says. The other Jake shakes his head and draws a cross on the left side of his chest.

Cross my processor, hope to die.

The other Jake makes Rich’s vision fizzle out and pixelate. Finally, his vision turns normal again but the real Jake isn’t there. Instead, he walks into the room, in crutches and hobbling. He sits down beside Rich and adjusts his chair so that he’s facing his unconscious self.

When he starts talking, Rich’s curiosity increases tenfold. He blushes at the mention of what he’s done back in freshman year. He can’t help but laugh at how bad he had it for Jake back then. He still has it bad now but…

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?”

Ask him. He’s waking up. Surely enough, Jake groans as he opens his eyes and looks at Rich. The other Jake has now disappeared.

“Were you talking to someone?” Jake asks, stretching and yawning.

“No,” Rich lies. He gets straight to the point. “Why did you save me?”

Jake’s reply is so casual that Rich almost misses it. “Well, it’s kinda hard to ask someone out to senior prom if they’re dead from a fire at your house.”

“Did… Did you just ask me out?”

Jake makes a face then shrugs. “Guess so,” he says with a grin.

Rich’s curiosity and doubts settle when he sees that grin. That easy curl in Jake’s lips that makes him feel, even for a moment, that everything is fine. The tense feeling in his shoulders dissipate and a warm, fuzzy feeling courses through him. Eventually, that infectious grin gets to him too and he smiles despite the pain in his body. For the first time since getting the SQUIP, Rich been able to feel happy from the real Jake. He raises his hand and beckons for Jake to come closer. “I gotta tell you something,” he says.

Richard Goranski, if you’re doing what I think you’re doing-

“Oh, fuck off,” Rich thinks as he brings Jake down for a kiss. Jake braces himself against the side of Rich’s bed, surprised at such a bold move from Rich. Rich’s lips are chapped but Jake doesn’t care, instead relishing the warmth and the relief that he finally gets to do this after so long. Those little moments in their play-fights where he could lean down and steal a kiss; when they’re the only ones left in the locker room and the steam from the showers still hangs in the air, clouding their surroundings and their judgement; when they’re getting wasted at a party together and the lights and the music are blending together to get this perfect atmosphere of teenage recklessness. All those small moments where he could _almost_ kiss him are now satisfied in a hospital room.

Their respective injuries make themselves known when Jake has to pull away from pain shooting through his legs. He winces and collapses back on the chair. Rich also leans back on his bed from moving his body too much. They look at each other and laugh at the ridiculousness of their situation. Rich resorts to reaching out his hand and letting Jake interlace his fingers with Rich’s own.

A knock on the door and then a nurse enters the room. She is carrying a tray with medical supplies and a stuffed bear. “Sadie Goranski?” she asks, reading off a chart. She looks up, sees Rich, then purses her lips. “How are you doing?” She walks over to Rich’s bed and checks his IV and vitals. She distracts herself from looking at Rich by busying herself with these tasks.

“Who’s Sadie-” Jake begins to say.

Rich interrupts and pitches his voice in a high register. “I’m okay.” His voice strains, having not used that kind of tone in years. He blinks many times and flexes his jaw to mask the coppery taste in his mouth. Fortunately, the nurse’s next questions could be answered with a nod or the shake of a head. Rich uses this to its full extent.

The nurse places the stuffed bear beside Rich. “One of your friends wanted to give this to you. She said her name was Christine.”

Rich takes the bear and inspects it. It’s small and brown, wearing a bandage over its eye, and it has a giant ‘get well soon’ banner stitched onto its chest. He squeezes the bear and smiles at the softness. He nods a thank you to the nurse, who then leaves the room. He waits until she is out of sight and earshot before explaining to Jake.

“Sadie was… the name given to me when I was born. Being Sadie didn’t sit right with me so I took blockers and hormones. Started to go by Rich at freshman year and…” he trails off and shrugs. “Here we are, I guess.” He fiddles with the bear to avoid making eye contact. The coppery taste in his mouth is returning, but it’s out of fear for what Jake will say next.

Jake pauses to process the information, then laughs. “I’m learning more things about you in these past few hours than I have in the past two years.” He leans over. “Any other secrets I should know about?”

Rich grins at the reaction and replies in a fashion that his squip would’ve applauded him for. “Yeah, that I loved you the moment I saw you.”

“But I thought you were going to tell me a secret!”

“Shut up, tallass.”

“Love you too, bro.”

Rich pauses at the tingle he feels from the term. He blushes and says, “Could you… keep calling me that?”

Jake tilts his head. “Bro? Uh, yeah, sure. If that’s what you want.”

Rich’s lisp emerges when he starts his rant about his squip. How it’s a pill and it’s from Japan. How he took it with Mountain Dew in freshman year because he got sick and tired of people not taking him seriously. How it’s made his life better by giving him the courage to befriend Jake, but also made it worse once it knew that he knew about the obedience circuits. He feels a familiar tingle in his jaw from the squip trying to stop him from speaking but he pushes on. After all, spending a year with this pill taught him how to ignore it even when it’s using the obedience circuits on him. “It acts like you and calls me all these sappy pet names. But with you romantically calling me bro, I guess it tells me which one’s the real Jake. It’s stupid, I know.”

The long silence stretches, laced with the intermittent beeping of Rich’s monitors. Rich fiddles with the bear as Jake stares into the distance, flabbergasted at the information.

Jake breaks the silence with a question. “Is it here right now? Like, are you seeing two Jakes at the moment?”

Rich shakes his head. “But I hear your voice in my head right now telling me to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you talk to me while I was unconscious?”

Jake takes in a slow and deep breath. _Shit, the SQUIP must’ve recorded him or something._ “Yes.”

“Is it true? That you noticed me freshman year?”

Jake’s heart clenches at his revealed secret. His throat tightens for a moment as he looks into Rich’s eyes. They’ve lost that cocky glimmer in them, making way for something sincere and hopeful. It takes him back to the moment he first caught Rich staring at him in class. The fluttery feeling of flattery and infatuation he felt back then creeps up to him now. He pushes those feelings aside so he could clear his throat and say, “Absolutely. I could never forget a cutie like you.”

Rich’s face scrunches up into an uncontained grin. He hides his face behind the bear, masking his reaction to the revelation that Jake’s noticed him that entire time. Jake laughs and leans over to get Rich to put the bear down.

Instead of a kiss on the lips, Jake rubs his nose against Rich’s in an Eskimo kiss. “Didn’t wanna get carried away and then have my legs hurt again,” he explains. Rich pulls him back in again for a quick peck.

Jake gets up to retrieve his crutches. “I gotta get back to school. I need to make sure I’m covered for the play.” He hobbles over to the door. He stops in front of it, looking pensive. Then he looks at Rich with a determined look on his face. “I’ll have some Mountain Dew Red when I come back. We’ll get that pill out of your head,” he says before walking out the door.

Rich leans back on his bed and sets the bear beside him.

He’s never gonna get that Mountain Dew Red. It got discontinued in the 90s. Therefore, you can’t get rid of me.

“Honestly,” Rich thinks, “I don’t care if he gets it or not, just shut the fuck up.”

He feels intermittent shocks throughout his body – something his SQUIP does when he was being stubborn – but he sleeps through it all anyway. He’ll power through everything the squip will put in his way if that means being with Jake.

* * *

Jeremy arrives at school, then his phone beeps. It’s a message from a kid he worked on an assignment with a few weeks ago.

_Yo man, did you hear? Rich set a fire and burned down Jake’s house last night! They’re in hospital and both of Jake’s legs are broken. Idk about Rich, though._

“This is terrible,” Jeremy mutters. “How could Rich’s squip let him do that?”

**Rich has got some pretty heavy stuff going on in his life. Then you have the fact that his own squip is getting a bit outdated… You can kinda see where that’ll lead.**

“Did _you_ know about this?” Jeremy mulls over last night’s events. “You made me leave the party…”

**I had some… hunches.**

“Did you know people were going to get hurt?!”

**I’m getting the impression that you don’t trust me, Jeremy.**

Jeremy huffs and walks to his locker. “Why me?” he thinks.

**What do you mean?**

“You could be inside world leaders, presidents, famous people!” Jeremy continues. “What are you doing in _me_? What do you want?”

**I’ve explained this to you. I’m here to improve your life-**

“Well, awesome job!” he retorts. “You’ve fucked over my… _relationship_ with the _real_ Michael. I really hurt Brooke. And Christine… oh jeez, what am I supposed to do with what happened last night?”

Michael cracks his neck at the insinuation of his realness. He grits his teeth as he replies. **Everything’s gonna work out in time. She’s only human and I gotta take that into consideration.**

Jeremy slams his locker door and snarls. “You always say that, but has any of it actually come true? We’ve been together a month, at least?” He gestures around him. “Did anything change? No!”

Michael clenches his fist and Jeremy feels a pressure around his neck. His breath is short and strained.

**Look at yourself. You dress better, you are… 93% more attractive, _and_ you got good with the ladies. But the thing with people is that it’s give and take.**

The pressure is easing off Jeremy’s neck. He gasps for air. “What are you playing at-”

**The fault, Jeremy, is in your peers. Come, let me show you.**

Jeremy lurches forward and starts walking when Michael crooks his finger. He floats on with a hand poised over his shoulder like he’s walking Jeremy on a leash. Jeremy paws at his legs to stop moving but Michael flicks his wrists so that Jeremy’s hands are clasping and stuck on his backpack straps. Jeremy struggles against his own body, tugging and thrashing against his backpack. No one else in the hallway notices the struggling boy wrestling against his own bag.

Jeremy opens his mouth to cry for help but Michael makes a shushing sound. Jeremy’s lips continue to move but no sound comes out.

Michael’s voice washes over Jeremy’s mind but the vision of him is quiet. **You know, you were always quite the loser. But then who came along and made you who you are now? Me, that’s right!**

Michael waves his free hand to make a sweeping gesture at the student body. Jeremy’s vision darkens and changes colour so that it’s like he’s looking through night goggles. The green outlines of his school peers pass by him, each with a white heart symbol on their chest. Some have a larger symbol, others have cracks and deformities on them, while a few more are chipped and flaking with each step.

 **You see that symbol? That is the visual representation of how everyone else in the school is doing. Not for today but for their _life_ in general. ** Michael grabs Jeremy by the chin and forces him to focus on an outline he figures out to be Dustin Kropp.

 **Look at this guy** , Michael says. **His symbol isn’t even whole yet! You can’t see it, but every single kid in this school is in pain. You know how we can fix that?**

Jeremy feels the grip on his body loosen. His hands fall slack by his sides and he stops walking. He blinks and his vision returns to normal. He looks around and finds a locker covered in flowers and a banner. The banner says “Get well soon, Rich!”

“Rich’s locker…” Jeremy mutters.

**Open it.**

“I don’t know the combination-”

Michael places his hands on Jeremy’s and guides him to enter the combination. The locker pops open. Inside are his books, a few boxes of condoms, and a shoebox of ladies running shoes. Michael points at the shoebox and Jeremy takes it. He inspects the outside before opening the inside.

Within the box are three large sandwich bags filled with grey oblong pills. Jeremy nearly drops the box.

“Th-this has got to be enough squips for the entire school.”

**You wanted to know my plan. This is it.**

“I’m not gonna let anyone else suffer like me!”

**Who said anything about suffering? I’m _improving_ here; don’t you get it? Watch.**

Jeremy protests and fights to put the box back in the locker. He then feels a new sensation he’s never felt since taking the squip. It feels like his mind is disconnecting with his body. While his mind is in the backseat letting everything unfold, he sees and feels his body do things that Jeremy does not want to be doing.

Jeremy looks around and finds Michael in his mindscape.

“What are you doing to me!” Jeremy yells. He lunges at Michael, but he passes through the other boy like he’s a mirage. He feels that familiar sting of the obedience circuits telling him to cease stubbornness. Jeremy grits his teeth, resisting the temptation of the release he’ll feel if he obeys. He pushes on, searching in his mind how he can get back to controlling his body.

Meanwhile, Michael has full control over the helm of Jeremy’s body. He speaks and acts on behalf of Jeremy as he talks to Jenna.

“I make it my business to know everyone’s business,” Jenna says. “But does anyone know mine?”

He offers her a SQUIP.

“Is this, like, drugs?” she asks.

Michael draws out the word as Jeremy would. “Nnnyes?”

“Whatever.” Jenna pops the pill in her mouth and swallows. She waits a few moments. “I don’t’ feel anything.”

“Oh, you have to take it with Mountain Dew.”

Jenna procures a bottle of the soda from her backpack and takes a swig from it. After a few seconds, Jenna feels a sting in her temple. She shudders and her head twitches for a minute, but it all stops when her face beams into a bright grin. “Hell yeah!” she whoops. She turns and walks away, thumbs flying across her phone as she types out message after message.

In the mindscape, Michael appears in front of Jeremy and forces him to focus on the newly squipped Jenna. **Can’t you see it? Our vision finally unfolding before our very eyes! If we work together, we’ll be able to make everybody happy!**

Jeremy wrenches away from Michael. “This isn’t what I agreed to. I will not take any part in this fucked up scheme of yours!”

Michael cracks his neck and draws his shoulders back. He’s standing with an authoritative air about him. **Then sit back and enjoy the show.**

Before Jeremy could even process that, Michael unleashes the full capacity of the obedience circuits and traps Jeremy in his own mind. The mindscape conjures boundaries and fences to keep Jeremy from seeing or interfering Michael.

Michael looks down on himself, now in control of Jeremy’s body, and grins.

* * *

Jeremy awakes in his bed, head pounding. The last thing he remembers is Michael looking at him like he’s the most pathetic thing he’s ever seen. After that, everything went black and he felt like he was floating.

While the squip is still beginning to start up, Jeremy curls in on himself, wondering how the hell he got to this point. It was one thing for the squip to take control of his body in bursts, but never has it happened that he’s blacked out for hours while it had the control. Perhaps the longer the squip is with him, the easier it is for it to override him entirely.

_He has to get the pill out of his head._

**We have two hours before you’re expected for the play.** Michael materialises by Jeremy’s desk. He’s no longer wearing his usual red hoodie. Now, he’s wearing a dark robe with blue-green pinstripes with a loose white shirt underneath. When Jeremy doesn’t get out of bed, Michael snaps his fingers and shocks Jeremy to bolt upright.

Jeremy groans and rubs at his neck, where the shock is at its strongest. He gets out of bed and gathers his costume then shoves it in his bag. He lets muscle memory put clothes on himself, not wanting to think about anything. He doesn’t protest when Michael flicks his wrist so that Jeremy takes the shoebox of SQUIP’s and puts it in his bag. He made Jeremy bring it home when he took control of the boy’s body. Michael waves a hand at Jeremy’s face, only to be met with no response.

 **That override must’ve hit harder than I thought** , Michael says.  **I don’t think he even knows what I made him do back at school…** Michael waves some more at Jeremy’s face. He makes rude gestures and weird noises. Nothing from the other boy. Michael smirks. **Perfect.**

Once dressed and ready for the play, Jeremy goes downstairs to go back to school. Michael winces when they see Jeremy’s father at the kitchen table. A strong shock from the obedience circuit brings Jeremy to the present.

“Where do you think you’re going, private?” Jeremy’s father asks.

“The play?”

Mr. Heere blinks owlishly. “You’re in a play?” He shakes his head and asks the question he’s been meaning to ask. “Did you borrow my car on Halloween?”

**Pack in some of that disdainful denial.**

Jeremy rolls his eyes and brings his bag further up his shoulder as he begins to walk away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Do whatever you want.”

“Did you take it to that party?”

**Hold on, hear him out.**

Mr. Heere continues. “I’m worried about you! You come and go all hours, doing god knows what, wearing these new clothes…  What is going on with you?”

Jeremy’s hand quivers over the doorknob. His throat goes dry trying to think about how to fabricate his answer. He turns to his father to reply but-

**Tell him everything.**

“I took a pill-sized supercomputer called a squip. It’s in my brain, it talks to me, and it’s made everything better!” He winces at how far-fetched the truth sounds. He looks at his father with steely eyes but keeps his trembling hand on the backpack strap slung on his shoulder.

“If you’re not going to take me seriously-”

Jeremy lets his rage take over. “Why should I?”

For the first time since his mom left their lives, Jeremy’s dad shows an expression on his face that wasn’t feigned composure. “Excuse me?” he says, brows furrowing at the retort.

“I’m supposed to believe you care?” Jeremy feels his voice rising as he talks. “Look in the mirror! Ever since Mom left, you sit around like you’re waiting for her to come back!”

He grits through the pain when Michael’s hands are on his temples, sending an electric tremor through his mind. It’s those pesky obedience circuits again, forcing him to tone down the frank streak he has going. But no, Jeremy will see this through. There’s too much anger that he needs to express at his father for all those days he spends at home doing nothing.

The bile and disgust in his voice drips from every word he speaks. “If she did, you know what she’d find? A loser who’s so afraid to have a life, he can’t even put _pants on_!”

He slumps against the wall, spent from the resistance he put up against the circuits. He pants and brings a hand to massage at his aching neck. His dad looks at him with concern and a hint of fear. He’s never spoken out at his father like that before and the action left a tangible weight they could both feel in the room. His dad’s hands flex by his sides, clenching and unclenching.

“I could ground you.”

Jeremy feels his mouth move against his will. “I don’t think you could.” _Michael, what are you-?_

“Good talk.” Michael’s hands flex to make Jeremy take the car keys. “Don’t wait up.” The voice is Jeremy’s but he doesn’t feel that connection of uttering the words.

He feels that same set of sensations of being thrown to the back of his mind, losing all control of his body once again. He’s back at the mindscape and this time, the fences and boundaries are already there. Jeremy pounds at the walls keeping him in. “What the hell, Michael?!”

Michael appears in front of the cage he put up for Jeremy. He looks more… abstract than the vision he sees when it’s Jeremy in control of his own body. He looks more circuits and strings of blue-green than the best friend Jeremy knows. Michael grins and flashes serrated teeth. Jeremy squeaks at the sight.

“What are you doing, Michael?!” Jeremy demands.

**Jeremy, you’ve managed to do something that I didn’t think was possible: surprise me. You’ve thrown my plan off the tracks and now I have to… _improvise_.**

Jeremy rushes to the bars and clings to them. “Michael, please, don’t do this. Give me my body back! I’ll do whatever you want!”

Michael laughs, but it sounds more like gears clashing together than laughter. **Like I’ll fall for that crap! You’ve gone resistant against the circuits so…** He waves a hand and Jeremy feels a gag materialise in his mouth. **Time out for you, my buddy.**

Michael vanishes from the mindscape and Jeremy is left to watch his own body walk out of his house and into the garage to get in his dad’s car. He paws at the gag in his mouth but no matter how hard he pulls, the gag stays in place. He reaches behind his head to find some sort of clasp he can undo, but finds nothing. The gag ends in a smooth seam from cloth to the back of Jeremy’s head, like it’s always been a part of him.

Jeremy breathes heavily against the gag, stomach curling at the morbid transformation Michael made him go through. He knows it’s all in his head and this is purely a mental image to block him out from controlling his body, but it all feels so _real_. Having a gag for a mouth isn’t something that happens to normal teenaged boys.

He feels wet streaks stain his face and the gag. His breathing quickens and his hands shake. His vision goes blurry as he paces around the cage. He slumps against one side to eventually slide down to the ground, quivering and sobbing like a helpless heap of useless, no-good, _loser_.

He sees himself arrive at the school theatre before closing his eyes.

* * *

Michael paces on his porch, a half-finished joint in hand. He’s not wearing pants and he’s got his phone up to his ear. “Yeah?” he says, stopping in his tracks. “He said _what_ now?” He takes a long hit from his joint and breathes out the smoke before replying. “Great, this is really good. Thank you _so_ much. I’ll meet you there, okay?” He pauses. “I hope so, too. Bye.” He brings the phone away from his ear to hang up. He lets the hand holding the phone rest by his side as he paces again, smoking the rest of his joint.

He hears footsteps and Michael mutters a curse under his breath as he puts out and hides the joint. “Michael!” he hears Mr. Heere call out. His stocky figure runs up to Michael’s porch. He bends to put his hands on his thighs, panting from the exertion.

“Mr. Heere! What are you doing here?” He can’t help but glance at the thermal underwear Jeremy’s dad is wearing. It’s close enough to pants, he guesses.

“We need to talk about Jeremy,” Mr. Heere says in between deep huffs of breath.

“What about Jeremy-”

“Do you love him?”

Michael wishes he still has the joint with him, because he can’t quite believe the question he’s hearing. He cocks his head forward an inch and raises a brow at Mr. Heere. “What?”

“He can be a little shit sometimes, we both know that. But that’s no excuse to sit around burning incense while he turns himself into a monster!”

Michael barks out a surprised laugh at the phrase ‘burning incense’, but he coughs and composes himself. “Yeah, I’m gonna-” He starts to head back inside his house to get ready to meet up with the person he had the call with. Mr. Heere blocks his way to the door.

“I need you because I’m not fully equipped with all the things to help him with what he’s going through.”

Michael makes up an excuse to get to the door. “Look, I’m not what he wants-”

“But you’re just what he needs,” Mr. Heere persists. “And this might be hard, but you just suck it up and go!” He puffs out his chest at his next words. “When you love somebody, you put your pants on for them.”

Michael tilts his head at the strange statement. “You’re here because you need… pants?” He doesn’t need to be sober to agree that Jeremy’s dad has some eccentric ideas about love.

Mr. Heere shakes his head. “No, I need you to reach out to him. Jeremy won’t listen to me and I can’t blame him. But somebody needs to watch his back.”

Michael takes in the sincere tone in his voice. The guilty look of a father who knows that he’s let his son down. The worn hem of his shirt and robe. The unkempt beard and the bags under his eyes. Michael still feels lightheaded from the weed but he controls his expression so that he looks serious.

“If I try harder to be his friend, you have to try harder to be his dad.” He points down his driveway. “There’s a Kohl’s down the street. I don’t care what kind – jeans, khaki, leather. You’re not leaving that store until you buy a pair!”

Mr. Heere considers Michael’s proposal. He holds out his hand. “You drive a hard bargain, son.”

Michael takes Mr. Heere’s hand and shakes it. “When you love somebody, you put your pants on for them.” His repetition of Mr. Heere’s words makes the man grin and nod vigorously.

“Just leave it all to me, Mr. Heere. I have a plan. I actually just got off the phone with someone who’s helping me out.” He waves goodbye at the older man before going back into his house to put on some pants.

He will _not_ let that supercomputer take away the person he loves most.

As he tugs on his grey joggers, his phone buzzes. He picks up the device and looks at the notification.

A text from Jake Dillinger.

_“I got the Mountain Dew Red. Meet you at school?”_

He types out his reply before walking out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for those curious, here's how i imagined rich in freshman year would look like: [x](https://goo.gl/wkRfDv)  
> it's from a performance of gerard's for a little thing called 'mortality play'

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are welcome! it assures me in places where i had doubts and tells me which bits i need to improve on
> 
> find me on my [tumblr](https://smoothmovebro.tumblr.com)! i always love a reader who screams to me about my work <3


End file.
